THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


THE  V *- 


TORY'S     DAUGHTER 

^  Homa»«  at  the  porth-West 
1812-1813 


BY 

A .    G .    RIDDLE 

AUTHOR  OF  "  BART   RIDGELEV." 


NEW  YORK  &  LONDON 
G.    P.    PUTNAM'S    SONS 

£fce  Bntcfeerbocfecr 
1888 


COPYRIGHT   BY 

G.    P.    PUTNAM'S    SONS 


Press  of 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 
New  York 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  A  MISTAKE  AND  AN  ACCIDENT,    ....  I 

II.  A  MEMORY, 19 

III.  ECHOES   PAST  AND  PRESENT 39 

IV.  THE  QUEEN'S  GIFT, 61 

V.   ON   THE  EVE, 84 

VI.   MISSING, 100 

VII.  THE  SHAWANOE'S  GIFT, 115 

VIII.   EDITH, 130 

IX.   VERY  WAR,                135 

X.  THE  FIRST  GUN, 143 

XI.   SQUAW  BLOW, 150 

XII.   CARTER   BETS  ON  RESULTS,         ....  l6l 

XIII.  DAY  OF  BATTLES, l8o 

XIV.  TECUMSEH  AVENGER  AND  RESCUER,           .           .  194 
XV.  THE  BATTLE  AND  AFTER — AN  INDIAN  PRINCESS,  198 

XVI.   SHAWANOE  IN  COUNCIL 211 

XVII.   RETURN  OF  THE  EXILES, 2[6 

XVIII.   SANDUSKY,            .                      228 

XIX.   WATCHING — WAITING, 238 

XX.   MRS.  GORDON  AS  AMBASSADOR,          .          .          .  244 

XXI.   FLIGHT, 252 

XXII.   PARTING, 263 

XXIII.  ANITA'S  GIFT, 267 

XXIV.  THE  ONSET, 274 

XXV.  CARTER'S  SPEECH  OVER  TECUMSEH,     .       .       .  284 

XXVI.   THE  MESSENGER  TO  EDITH,        ....  288 

XXVII.    THE  FOREST   PRINCESS, 26g 

XXVIII.   '  WE  BURIED  HIM  DARKLY  AT  DEAD  OF  NIGHT,'  31 1 


Contents. 


CHAPTER 


PAGE 


XXIX.  THE  LIFE  DRAMA, 3T9 

XXX.   THE  BRIDES, 332 

XXXI.  ANITA'S  LEAVE-TAKING, 343 

XXXII.   HOMEWARD,          .                                 ....  353 

XXXIII.  CARTER  TALKS, 359 

XXXIV.  OVER  THE  ROADS  TO  THE  END,        ...  368 
SUPPLEMENTAL, 373 


PREFATORY    NOTE. 


IN  the  following  pages  will  be  found  a  somewhat  ro 
mantic  story  of  the  war  of  1812-1813,  on  our  nortn- 
western  border,  written  from  the  ground  occupied  by  the 
refugees  of  the  Revolution  and  their  descendants  in 
Canada. 

The  fortunes  of  my  people  are  so  interwoven  with  the 
incidents  of  the  national  struggle,  that  their  history  be 
comes  largely  a  history  of  the  war  itself,  and  of  some  of 
the  commanders  on  both  sides. 

A  study  has  been  made  of  many  of  the  writers  of  that 
stirring  but  now  obscure  period,  American,  British,  and 
Canadian,  and  an  attempt  made,  subordinate  to  the  main 
purpose,  to  place  the  leading  incidents  within  easy  appre 
hension  of  the  reader.  Misapprehensions  and  misstate- 
ments  have  not  intentionally  been  repeated.  Some  pop 
ular  stories  and  beliefs  on  one  side  as  on  the  other,  have 
been  corrected.  I  may  add  that  for  all  the  statements 
in  reference  to  the  Shawanoe  chief,  save  some  of  the 
incidents  of  his  personal  relations  to  my  characters,  there 
is  ample  authority,  as  the  references  will  show. 

The   battle   of  Fort    Stephenson,    which   so   signally 
v 


vi  Prefatory  Note. 

marked  the  sharp  change  in  the  fortunes  of  the  war,  as 
also  the  great  sea  fight  of  Lake  Erie,  exercised  such  a 
controlling  influence  upon  the  destiny  of  my  people,  that 
they  could  not  be  wholly  omitted  from  my  narrative. 

Whatever  may  be  the  fortunes  of  this  work,  it  is  be 
lieved  that  in  its  pages  will  be  found  something  of  the 
spirit  and  flavor  of  pioneer  life  in  the  West,  of  that  time 
which  sober  history  cannot  embody,  and  which  our  litera 
ture  has  so  slightly  lent  itself  to  preserve. 

To  the  elder  generation,  the  war  of  1812  on  the  north 
western  frontier  is  already  a  legend  ;  to  the  younger, 
the  dimmest  of  traditions.  Isolated  as  was  its  stage, 
small  in  actual  event,  yet  most  momentous  in  conse 
quences,  it  has  never  received  that  attention  and  consid 
eration  which  its  intrinsic  importance  entitles  it  to.  The 
war  on  that  frontier  began  with  the  fall  of  Detroit,  in 
mid  August,  1812,  and  the  events  immediately  pre 
ceding  it ;  and  ended  on  the  fifth  of  October,  1813; 
and  though  it  raged  along  the  north-eastern  and  south 
western  borders  until  January,  1815,  through  all  the 
Northwest,  peace  between  the  great  parties  was  as 
assured  as  if  secured  by  a  treaty,  and  the  interrupted  tide 
of  immigration  at  once  resumed  its  westward  flow. 

The  battle  of  the  Thames  put  an  end,  substantially,  to  a 
chronic,  and  at  times  a  most  disastrous  Indian  war  of 
more  than  sixty  years  duration,  in  the  valley  of  the  Ohio 
and  basin  of  Lake  Erie,  and  forever  broke  the  power, 
the  hearts  and  hopes  of  the  immediate  western  tribes. 


Prefatory  Note.  vii 

I  have  resisted  the  temptation  to  annoy  a  reader  with 
long  notes.  For  the  curious,  whose  memory  or  means  of 
information  may  not  enable  him  to  recall  or  trace  them,  I 
have  subjoined  some  supplemental  matter  of  the  after 
fortunes  of  three  or  four  men  and  events,  mentioned 
in  my  pages. 

I  had  a  wish  to  tell  a  story  which  I  hoped  would  inter 
est  some  readers.  As  I  made  a  study  of  the  ground  and 
material,  there  came  a  wish  almost  as  strong,  to  awaken 
interest  in  the  forgotten  history  of  the  Northwest. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


THE  TORY'S   DAUGHTER. 


CHAPTER  I. 

A    MISTAKE    AND   AN   ACCIDENT. 

IT  was  a  day  of  late  October  and  past  mid-afternoon  ; 
a  day  of  squalls,  rain,  and  flurries  of  snow  on  the 
stormy  lake.  A  small  craft  had,  with  difficulty,  been 
brought  to  near  the  mouth  of  a  river,  from  which  were 
landed  her  passengers.  That  accomplished,  the  boat 
pulled  back  and  the  vessel  turned  her  course  downward. 

Seemingly,  to  the  small  party  thus  left,  the  place  and 
surroundings  were  not  what  were  expected. 

"  There  is  some  mistake,"  said  the  elder  of  the  two 
gentlemen,  a  grave,  handsome  man,  well  advanced  in 
years,  with  the  bearing  of  one  accustomed  to  the  world 
and  affairs.  "  This  is  not  a  landing  ;  there  are  no  signs 
of  the  village ;  none  of  the  presence  of  the  natives ; 
everything  is  wild,  savage." 

The  river  ran  from  the  south,  discharging  its  waters 
into  the  southern  margin  of  Lake  Erie,  west  of  its  middle. 
The  ship  was  from  Long  Point,  on  the  other  side,  and 
below.  Its  purpose  was  to  land  this  party  with  their  lug 
gage,  the  means  of  a  few  days'  subsistence,  in  the  wild 
region  of  that  side  of  the  lake. 

"  The  landing  may  be  higher  up,"  said  the  young  man, 
of  unmistakable  military  bearing,  though  in  citizens'  dress ; 

I 


2  The   Tory's  Daughter. 

"  they  were  in  a  deuced  hurry  to  be  rid  of  us,  and  get 
off  this  beastly  coast,"  he  added. 

"  There  were  good  reasons  for  that.  Can  this  be  the 
Huron  ?  You  know  there  are  several  Huron  rivers.  Let 
us  explore  above,"  was  the  reply  of  the  elder  gentleman. 

The  two  ascended  the  high  bank,  and  looked  about 
them.  No  signs  of  man  or  of  human  dwellings  met  their 
eager  examination. 

This  was  in  the  autumn  of  1811,  the  period  of  exasper 
ation  between  the  owners  of  the  opposite  shores  of  the 
lake,  and  before  the  holders  of  the  southern  had  more 
than  nominal  possession  of  much  of  their  side. 

From  their  fruitless  examination  the  two  turned  silently 
back  to  their  boxes,  bales,  and  the  subordinate  males  of 
the  party  by  the  river's  margin,  anxiety  on  the  face  of 
the  elder,  disgust  in  the  look  of  the  younger.  "  Coming 
to  this  nasty  place  on  the  word  of  an  Indian.  Was  there 
ever  anything  so  d absurd  !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"You  seemed  very  willing  to  come,"  said  the  other 
coolly.  "  As  for  the  Indian,  you'd  better  repeat  that  to 
Edith.  She  is  apparently  looking  for  chestnuts  very 
unconcernedly,  up  there,"  with  a  motion  of  his  hand  in 
the  direction. 

The  other  men  of  the  party  were  three  soldiers,  in 
laborers'  apparel,  and  a  servant  of  the  elder  gentleman. 
Two  of  the  other  sex  completed  it.  When  they  landed, 
these,  under  the  lead  of  her  called  Edith,  took  their  way  up 
to  the  higher  land,  looking  about  and  searching  for  chest 
nuts.  They  were  now  seen  taking  their  way  down 
toward  the  group  by  the  river's  margin.  Leisurely  they 
moved.  Their  presence  in  that  wild  place  entitles  them 
to  brief  mention.  Youthful,  as  their  light,  easy  movements 
showed,  both  above  medium  height,  with  something  in 


A  Mistake  and  an  Accident.  3 

the  air  of  each  as  if  accustomed  to  care  for  herself,  to 
whom  the  small  attentions  of  male  attendants  might  be 
but  irksome.  The  face  of  Edith  we  see,  when  near 
enough,  is  beautiful ;  unmistakably  virginal,  fine  eyes, 
with  marked  straight,  heavy  brows,  noticeable  at  this  dis 
tance.  The  upper  person  clad  in  a  gayly-worked,  close- 
fitting  habit,  from  which  descended  a  skirt,  leaving  the 
ankle  free ;  the  small  feet  daintily  cased  in  bead-wrought 
moccasins,  the  head  protected  with  a  maroon-colored 
turban-like  hat,  with  a  small,  white  plume.  A  sash  over 
the  right  shoulder,  sustaining  a  small,  fur-covered  satchel 
against  the  left  side,  completed  a  figure  which  harmo 
nized  well  with  the  idea  of  out-door  adventure. 

Her  companion's  appearance  was  more  picturesque. 
Fully  her  height,  her  form  had  not  yet  received  the  magic 
of  roundness  it  was  destined  to.  A  child  of  the  native 
race,  not  so  dark  as  the  average,  her  face,  longer  favored 
and  finely  featured,  bore  indications  of  a  fine  strain  of 
ancestors.  Her  dress,  though  of  sober-colored  fabrics, 
was  half  barbaric ;  head  and  feet  clothed  like  the  other, 
save  her  cap  was  scarlet,  and  ornamented  with  a  war- 
eagle's  feather,  which  few  women  were  permitted  to  wear. 
Above  her  sash  was  seen  the  ivory  hilt  of  a  small  dagger, 
which  in  the  hand  of  a  spirited  woman,  might  prove  some 
thing  more  than  an  ornament,  for  which  it  was  worn. 
Her  eyes,  Oriental  in  shape  and  color,  almost  too  large 
for  the  size  of  the  finely-moulded  face,  were  striking,  and 
she  moved  with  the  light,  sinuous  grace  of  the  young 
daughters  of  chiefs. 

"  We  are  on  the  wrong  side,"  cried  Edith,  when  within 
hearing.  "  The  huts  are  over  there,"  pointing  to  the 
west  side  ;  "  you  can  see  them  from  the  top  of  the  hill," 
she  added. 


4  The   Torys  Daughter. 

"  Oh,  I  knew  there  was  some  nasty  blunder !  "  cried  the 
young  gentleman,  his  eyes  resting  on  the  face  of  the 
speaker,  in  a  way  indicating  entire  satisfaction  with  that, 
whatever  other  source  of  annoyance  he  might  have. 

The  whole  party  made  its  way  to  the  top  of  the  bank, 
led  by  the  girls,  when  after  a  little  search  the  Indian 
maiden  re-discovered  the  small  opening  through  which 
their  view  had  been  obtained  of  the  supposed  cabin. 
Each  of  the  gentlemen  secured  a  sight  of  the  top  and  out 
line  of  the  body  of  a  small  building  amid  the  trees,  quite 
at  the  crest  of  the  answering  hill,  on  the  other  side, 
though  the  younger  doubted  its  being  one  of  the  several 
huts  they  had  expected  to  find  on  the  east  side. 

"  It  would  look  differently  if  you  had  dined,  Captain," 
said  the  young  lady,  with  a  little  flash  of  sarcasm,  turning 
to  renew  her  suspended  nutting,  amid  the  newly-fallen 
leaves  at  her  feet,  the  fragrance  of  which  she  inhaled  with 
zest. 

All  the  men  of  the  party  examined  the  supposed  hut. 
One  went  so  far  as  to  distinguish  a  chimney  and  see 
smoke  rising  from  it — as  he  said. 

"  You  can  always  see  smoke  from  a  chimney,"  an 
swered  the  chief  of  the  party.  "  We  are  near  enough  to 
be  heard  there  ;  let  us  give  them  a  shout,"  he  added. 
"  Now,  my  men — all  together  !  " 

In  response  the  three,  with  the  leader,  united  their 
voices  quite  effectively. 

"  Bravo  !  Bravo  !  "  cried  Edith,  clapping  her  hands. 
"  Captain,  I  did  not  hear  your  mighty  voice,"  she  said. 

"  Once  again !  "  from  the  chief,  followed  by  a  more 
decisive  effort.  "  Still  another !  "  The  response  made 
the  near  foliage  quiver. 

"  Still    the  captain    remained  mute.       In    his  present 


A  Mistake  and  an  Accident.  5 

frame  of  mind,  his  voice  would  raise  the  dead  !  "  was  the 
young  lady's  comment — resuming  her  labor. 

No  response  from  the  opposite  bank. 

"  Perhaps  the  men  had  better  discharge  their  pieces," 
suggested  the  elder  gentleman,  to  him  called  Captain. 

"  Well,  let  them  fire,"  was  the  reply,  with  a  look  tow 
ard  the  three,  which  they  understood. 

The  day  was  damp  ;  the  old  flint  locks  hung  fire,  but 
finally  roared  out  in  the  still  wood  with  startling  effect. 

"  They'll  hear  that,  if  they  can  hear  anything.  Re 
load,"  was  the  captain's  comment  and  order. 

With  silent  eagerness  the  whole  party,  including  the 
girls,  awaited  the  result.  Two,  three,  five  minutes,  and 
the  silence  remained  unbroken,  the  aspect  on  the  other 
side  unchanged.  No  man  or  thing  appeared. 

"  Well,"  said  Edith,  the  first  to  speak,  "  the  invading 
army  of  British  Tories  and  Indians  will  now  proceed  to 
assault  the  enemy's  works,  who  fled  at  their  approach." 

"  It  may  be  well  to  remember  where  we  are,"  said  the 
elder  gentleman  to  her,  reprovingly. 

"  Certainly,"  she  answered,  laughing.  "  Pray  tell  me* 
and  I  will  never  forget  it,"  vivaciously. 

"  And  what  we  are,"  added  the  captain,  dryly. 

"As  if  the  senior  Captain  of  His  Majesty's  4ist  of 
Foot,  could  ever  forget  what  he  is,  or  let  us ;  and  as  if  any 
disguise  would  hide  him  from  Yankee  eyes,"  she  replied, 
with  mock  gravity. 

"  Who  has  talked  of  disguises,"  demanded  the  gentle 
man,  possibly  a  little  uncomfortable  in  his  present  cos 
tume,  in  a  quasi  enemy's  country. 

"  Oh,  there  has  been  no  declaration  of  war,"  said  the 
teasing  girl,  assuringly.  "  For  me,  I  would  be  very  glad 
to  see  any  of  our  cousins  just  now,  in  any  guise." 


6  The  Torys  Daughter. 

"  The  place  is  deserted  or  not  occupied,"  said  the 
leader,  who  had  been  attentively  observing  the  hut  and 
locality.  "  Still  it  is  our  only  chance  for  the  night. 
What  say  you,  Captain  ?  " 

"Nothing  is  easier  than  to  cross  and  try  it,"  replied 
the  captain,  arousing  himself  at  the  idea  of  action.  He 
may  have  been  held  a  little  at  disadvantage  by  Edith ;  if 
so  its  effect  disappeared  on  this  call. 

"  My  men,  we  must  cross  this  water — a  raft  will  do 
it ;  "  he  called  out  to  them.  "  Lively  now  !  "  leading  the 
way  rapidly  down  to  their  landing,  followed  by  the  whole 
party,  Edith  and  her  companion  taking  their  way  leis 
urely  in  the  rear. 

Among  their  effects  were  two  or  three  axes,  and  within 
a  short  time  there  floated  by  the  immediate  shore,  a  raft, 
apparently  buoyant  and  strong  enough  to  pass  the  full 
banked  stream,  here  some  twenty  or  thirty  yards  wide. 

When  all  was  ready  the  captain  approached  the  watch 
ful  and  silent  girls,  hat  in  hand,  and  said,  addressing 
Edith,  "  The  ark  waits,  will  my  lady  permit  me  to  con 
duct  her  on  board  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  "  she  replied,  "  if  the  women  are  to  take 
the  lead.  Otherwise  embark  the  army  and  baggage,  and 
we  will  witness  the  voyage  with  composure,  whatever  the 
result." 

"  There  is  prudence  in  that;  thanks,"  was  his   reply. 

The  traps  were  placed  on  board,  the  men,  armed  with 
long  poles,  under  the  captain's  command,  made  the  transit 
with  little  trouble,  and  returned  for  the  more  precious 
freight.  The  girls  and  the  elder  gentlemen  took  places 
on  the  raft,  which  was  launched  up-stream,  caught  and 
borne  down  by  the  current,  which  it  traversed,  was  ap 
proaching  some  drift,  formed  by  the  bodies  of  two  trees, 


A  Mistake  and  an  Accident.  7 

the  roots  of  which  adhered  to  the  opposite  bank,  against 
the  upper  side  of  which  the  float  had  rested  on  its  former 
voyage.  When  the  edge  of  the  raft  was  now  within  a 
yard  or  two  of  this  resting-place,  in  its  downward  trend, 
the  bed  pieces  at  one  corner  suddenly  parted.  Near  this 
opening  stood  the  elder  man,  and  to  avoid  falling  into  the 
water,  he  made  a  sudden  leap  to  the  near  drift.  He 
failed  to  make  his  footing  good,  fell  backward,  his  head 
striking  with  much  force  on  a  timber  of  the  float,  partially 
stunning  him,  and  he  went  helplessly  into  the  river, 
there  of  considerable  depth,  and  having  a  current  under 
the  drift. 

Edith  and  her  companion,  under  the  common  impulse 
which  induced  her  father  to  spring  from  the  raft,  also 
made  a  rush  for  the  drift-wood,  which  they  securely 
gained,  and  turning  she  saw  the  unfortunate  man  sinking 
in  the  black  water.  She  uttered  a  loud  cry  of  alarm — 
"  My  father  !  my  father  !  help  !  help  !  "  and  would  herself 
have  leaped  in  had  she  not  been  restrained  by  the  Indian 
girl. 

The  servant  was  on  the  west  shore  with  the  baggage. 
The  first  care  of  the  captain  and  of  his  men  was  given 

r> 

to  their  own  temporary  safety,  in  the  breaking  up  of  the 
raft.  In  the  emergency  what  might  have  been  the  fate 
of  the  fallen  man  cannot  be  known.  Just  at  the  instant 
unexpected  aid  intervened.  With  the  attention  of  all 
upon  the  raft  its  progress  and  passengers,  no  one  had 
seen  the  approach  down  the  western  bank  of  an  active 
form,  which  reached  the  margin  of  the  river  as  the  float 
gave  way.  He  saw  the  elder  man  fall  and  disappear. 
He  sprang  along  the  drift  and  leaped  into  the  water  a 
moment  later  and  also  disappeared.  One  of  the  men 


8  The   Torys  Daughter. 

gained  the  place,  and  pushed  aside  the  floating  bits 
which  formed  the  treacherous  raft,  now  closing  over  the 
surface  next  the  drift. 

Edith  held  her  breath  in  a  spasm  of  suspense.  It  was  no 
considerable  part  of  a  minute,  though  to  her  an  age,  when 
almost  within  reach  of  her  hand  the  water  parted,  the 
head  of  the  rescuer  burst  up  through  it,  the  face  turned 
to  her,  almost  laughing,  with  the  water  dripping  from  it. 

"  He  is  all  right ! "  he  cried,  cheerily,  to  her,  lifting  her 
father's  head  and  upper  person  above  the  river's  surface, 
an  arm  around  the  intrepid  rescuer's  neck,  now  so  near 
that  Edith  secured  her  father's  hand  and  with  the  aid  of 
the  Indian  girl  and  the  man  nearest,  he  was  drawn  upon 
the  drift-wood,  where  the  stranger,  seen  to  be  quite  youth 
ful,  had  already  gained  footing.  The  captain  had  been 
partly  immersed  and  now  with  the  two  others  gained  that 
refuge. 

Without  waiting  for  words  the  stranger  took  up  the 
form  of  the  injured  and  unconscious  man,  and  with  little 
aid  bore  him  to  the  near  bank.  His  words  as  he  lifted 
him,  gayly  spoken,  were — "  I  shall  not  wet  him  much.  " 
The  captain  busied  himself  in  offering  aid  to  Ejjjfrh  to 
gain  the  land,  which  she  did  in  advance  of  him  .3rTd  was 
by  her  father's  side,  as  the  young  stranger  and  the  ser 
vant  placed  him  on  the  level  land,  on  which  his  feet  were 
permitted  to  rest.  Feeling  the  earth  under  them  the  still 
dazed  man,  who  had  taken  but  little  water,  instinctively 
straightened  up,  with  decided  signs  of  returning  con 
sciousness,  while  his  lungs  made  vigorous  effort  to  expel 
the  intruding  liquid. 

Pausing  for  a  moment,  while  the  party  gathered  around 
him,  the  stranger  said — addressing  the  captain —  "  There 
are  no  inhabitants  within  miles  of  here.  I  am  camping  in 


A  Mistake  and  an  Accident.  9 

an  old  hut  up  the  hill.  We  can  make  him  comfortable 
there.  I  fear  it  is  your  only  chance.  "  He  looked  and 
spoke  very  pleasantly. 

"  It  seems  so,"  said  the  Englishman,  ruefully. 

"We  accept  your  offer  with  gratitude,"  cried  Edith,  effu 
sively.  Then  turning  to  the  still  dazed  man,  she  wiped 
the  blood  of  a  scalp  wound  from  the  face.  He  was  now 
so  far  recovered  as  to  nearly  support  his  weight  on  his 
legs.  He  caught  his  daughter's  voice  and  turned  his  eyes 
upon  her,  with  a  little  smile  hovering  on  his  lips,  which 
discovering,  she  kissed  them  tenderly. 

With  Edith's  words  the  youth  moved  forward,  still  the 
chief  support  of  the  injured  man.  Just  at  the  foot  of  the 
acclivity — the  river's  secondary  bank — they  met  the  tall, 
sinewy  form  of  an  old  hunter,  who  came  striding  down  to 
ward  them.  At  their  approach  he  paused,  and  ran  his 
observant  eyes  over  the  party;  and  then  with  them  on  the 
face  of  the  young  man,  he  awaited  their  approach. 

"  My  old  hunter — Carter,"  said  the  youth  in  explanation. 
And  to  the  new-comer — "  He  got  a  dip  in  the  river," 
he  said.  "  We  will  give  him  our  cabin.  The  other  huts 
will  serve  the  rest  of  his  party. " 

"  All  right !  "  was  the  laconic  reply. 

"  And  he  saved  his  life,"  said  Edith  to  the  hunter. 

"  Uv  course,"  was  the  reply,  and  the  old  man  turning, 
strode  up  the  hill,  followed  by  the  slower  party,  for  whom 
the  young  man  selected  an  easier  ascent. 

At  the  summit  was  discovered  three  huts,  standing  near 
each  other,  around^  which  had  once  been  a  small  space  of 
cleared  land,  now  fast  being  reclaimed  by  the  forest. 
The  new  growths  had  been  cut  away  from  the  entrances  of 
the  huts,  rendering  them  accessible.  The  larger  was  di 
vided  into  two  apartments,  with  a  rude  chimney  and  hearth, 


IO  The  Tory's  Daughter. 

in  the  first  of  which  Carter  had  already  relit  the  fire. 
Near  this  he  had  also  placed  the  younger  hunter's  pallet, 
upon  which  the  injured  man  was  extended,  when  the 
younger,  referring  the  strangers  to  the  other  two  as  also  at 
their  disposal,  said  he  would  send  them  some  roast  veni 
son  for  dinner,  withdrew,  leaving  the  now  conscious  man 
to  the  care  of  his  party  and  their  own  resources.  Their 
luggage  was  brought  up,  the  huts  taken  possession  of, 
and  the  strangers  made  their  dispositions  for  the  night, 
now  closing  down  in  the  solemn  old  wood. 

Ere  his  departure,  the  young  man  removed  from  the 
principal  cabin  his  few  effects,  saying  to  the  young  lady, 
glancing  about  the  rude,  small  apartments — "  It  is  all  I 
can  offer  you.  Had  you  sent  me  word — "  finishing  with 
his  pleasant  laugh,  leaving  her  to  guess  his  meaning. 

"  And  you  ? "  she  asked,  a  little  anxiously. 

"O,  we — we  have  a  charming  place  down  by  the 
spring  ;  plenty  of  shelter  and  warmth."  Then  he  bowed 
his  adieu,  saying  he  would  venture  to  inquire  after  her 
father,  later. 

The  injured  man  was  placed  in  dry  wraps,  and  the 
hurt  of  his  head,  found  not  to  be  great,  was  tenderly 
cared  for.  The  girls  were  placed  in  possession  of  the 
inner  apartment,  and  everything  arranged  for  their  com 
fort  as  far  as  the  extemporized  means  permitted. 

The  contribution  from  the  hunters  was  a  well  roasted, 
saddle  of  venison,  which,  with  the  sauce  of  keen  appetites, 
was  pronounced  excellent.  The  elder  hunter  was  an 
experienced  cook  and  caterer  of  th$  resources  of  the 
woods,  neat  for  his  kind,  and  this  was  from  his  hand,  and 
with  the  stores  of  the  travellers,  made  their  late  repast  a 
feast. 


A  Mistake  and  an  Accident.  1 1 

As  the  young  hunter  left  the  cabin  for  his  near  camp- 
fire,  rekindled  in  the  darkening  wood,  he  was  met  by  the 
captain. 

"  What  may  be  the  name  of  this  river  ? "  he  asked. 

"  Black  River." 

"  Black  River?  Oh  !  ah,  this  is  the  Black  River — black 
enough.  Is  there  a  town — a  place,  on,  or  near  it  ?  " 

"  Cleveland  is  the  nearest.  No  town  west,  save 
Indian  towns,  till  you  reach  Detroit." 

"  Cleveland — ah  !  Cleveland  is  east — about  how  far  ?  " 

"  Well,  some  thirty  miles." 

"  Is  there  a  Huron  river  on  this  side — where  is  that  ?'" 

"  That  is  to  the  west." 

"  And  how  far  may  it  be  to  the  Huron — about  how 
far  ? " 

"  Carter  !  "  called  the  young  man  to  the  hunter,  "  How 
far  is  it  to  the  Huron  ?  " 

"  Thirty-five  miles,  peraps  ; "  was  Carter's  answer, 
repeated  by  the  youth  to  the  Englishman. 

"  And  woods  all  the  way  ?  " 

"  All  the  way.  No  prairie,  no  clearings  on  the  route, 
as  I  understand — is  there,  Carter  ? "  who  approached 
them  when  called  to. 

"  Every  mile  on't  woods  "  ;  in  the  sententious  mode  of 
speech  which  the  forest  imposes  on  its  denizens. 

"  Any  river  to  cross  between  this  Black  and  the 
Huron  ?  " 

"  The  Vermillion,  and  several  smaller  streams,  " 
answered  Carter.  ~ 

Thanks  were  not  a  commodity  with  the  stranger. 
Having  received  the  required  information,  he  turned 
away  toward  the  brow  of  the  high  bank,  not  attempting 
to  hide  from  himself  the  annoyance  the  position  gave  him. 


12  The  Torys  Daughter. 

"Black  River!  Damned  black!  Lucky  Cleveland  is 
no  nearer.  Forty  miles  to  the  Huron  !  "  adding  five  by 
way  of  aggravation,  and  blowing  out  a  long  whistle. 
"  Well,  we  are  planted  here  for  a  week.  What  if  the  old 
fanatic  had  lost  his  life.  He  would  have  been  drowned 
had  it  not  been  for  this  damned  young  prig,  with  his  girl 
face  and  red  lips.  The  old  hunter  eyes  us,  the  young 
one  will  see  nothing  but —  Has  been  in  their  army  I'd 
bet  a  year's  pay."  A  pause.  "  Well,  I  shall  have  things 
my  own  way  till  the  old  man  is  on  his  legs  again,  here 
in  the  woods.  Damned  little  good  it  will  do  me  though  ! 
Damn  the  woods  anyway  !  "  he  added,  peevishly,  turning 
back  to  the  huts. 

Night  was  in  the  woods,  and  very  soon  its  prowlers, 
the  predacious,  the  hunters,  were  stealing  from  their  hid 
ing-places  abroad.  Notes  and  signs  of  their  presence 
might  have  been  detected  by  an  expert  in  forestry,  which 
none  of  the  strangers  were,  save  the  Indian  maiden,  now 
housed  with  Edith,  who  was  a  lover  of  the  woods. 

A  lovely  spring  made  its  way  out  of  the  side  hill,  a 
third  of  the  way  from  the  top,  not  far  and  up-stream 
from  the  larger  hut,  forming  a  dimple  on  the  fair  earth's 
cheek,  whose  limpid  thread  in  several  tiny  cascades, 
found  its  way  to  the  near  river.  Near  this  was  the  fire 
and  cooking  place  of  the  hunters.  An  old  sail,  stretched 
from  the  northern  lip  of  the  dell  formed  by  the  spring, 
protected  it  from  the  wind  ;  was  ample  shelter  from  rain 
also.  Here  they  passed  the  night,  leaving  the  huts  to 
the  strangers,  so  curiously  thrown  upon  them,  and  who 
were  now  the  subjects  of  their  low  voiced  conversation. 
The  taciturn  Carter  was  the  principal  speaker,  an  indica 
tion  that  the  theme  was  one  of  unusual  interest  for  him. 

"  Ef  ever  I  seen  a  British  officer  this  man  is  rightly 


A  Mistake  and  an  Accident.  13 

called  cap'en,  and  these  three  are  solgers ;  their  guns 
was  inspected  less'n  a  week  ago.  Appen  'roun  there'n 
you'll  find  'em  stanin'  guard  there  now.  They  cum  in 
'ere  on  that  air  sloop  or  sumthin.  I  seen  'er  makin  off 
fore  I  hearn  their  guns  ;  an'  them  was  a  signal  fer  sum- 
thin  'er  ruther." 

"  That  may  all  be  true  ;  what  is  the  inference  ?  " 

"  They  cum  frum  Canady,"  was  his  summing  up. 

"  Very  likely  ;  well  ?  " 

"  Ye  see,  the  las'  we  heern  Guv'ner  Harrison  wus  a 
marchin  on  the  Prophit.  They  say  there  may  be  war 
enny  day." 

"  What  has  all  that  to  do  with  this  party,  Carter  ? 
You  are  shrewd." 

"  A  man  hez  to  be.  Wai,  they'r  'ere  by  mistake.  This 
'ere  cap'en  knows  nuthin  o'  this  side.  They  thought  this 
wus  the  Huern  ye  see ;  an  'spected  someone  else  to 
anser  their  guns,  ye  see." 

"  All  very  likely.  The  Huron  is  more  than  200  miles 
from  the  Prophet's  town." 

"Yis,  but  its  pesky  near  the  Wyn'dots  an  Senicas  and 
ole  Round-head,  Walk-in-the-Water  an'  them  air  though." 

"They  are  fast  friends  of  ours." 

"  An'  that  may  be  the  reason  for  this  'ere  jant.  W'y 
don't  they  say  'oo  an'  wat  they  air  ?  "  spiritedly. 

"  Why  should  they  ?  The  woods  are  free  to  everybody. 
Were  they  on  mischief  they  would  have  had  a  story  for 
whoever  they  might  meet.  Why  sliould  the  young  lady 
be  with  them  ?  And  this  Indian  princess  ?  " 

"  She's  a  lady,  sartin  ;  tho'  I  never  seen  menny." 

"  English  ?  " 

"  Merakin  born — I  reckon." 

"  And  this  Indian  girl, — an  Indian  princess  ?" 


14  The   Torys  Daughter. 

"Wai,  there  'tis,  ye  see.  These  'er  spicious  times. 
Wat  is  she  'ere  fer,  but  to  see  'er  relations — some  o'  the 
chiefs  ?  Wai,  ef  war  cums,  I'l  take  a'nuther  crack  at  'em 
—hanged  ef  I  don't." 

"  They  may  be  on  their  way  to  convert  the  Indians — 
who  knows  ?  Then  the  young  ladies  would  be  of  the 
party." 

"  Yis,  'n  the  cap'en  an  solgers,  uv  course.  They'd 
cunvart  em." 

"  Well,  they  will  be  here  two  or  three  days,  and  we 
must  do  what  we  can  for  them,"  laughing. 

"  Sartin  !  Sartin  !  We'l  give  the  young  lady  'n  'er  pa, 
'n  yer  princess — aint  she  bright  ? — briled  bass  fer  breck- 
fas,  an'  wunt  grudge  the  cap'en  a  bite  on't,  nuther," 
responded  the  old  hunter,  cordially. 

In  the  rude  apartment,  dimly  lighted  save  where  the 
brands  on  the  hearth  gave  out  light,  were  father  and 
daughter,  so  strangely  surrounded  in  the  heart  of  the 
forest.  The  father,  quite  himself,  propped  on  his  rude 
couch,  holding  his  child's  hand  as  she  sat  by  his  side,  her 
eyes  on  his  face,  which  in  the  lamp's  slender  light  looked 
wan.  A  glance  would  advise  a  stranger  that  these  were 
more  than  even  their  relationship  ordinarily  implies  to 
each  other.  The  accident,  the  imminent  peril  and  res 
cue,  the  intrepidity  of  the  young  hunter,  whose  presence 
was  not  the  least  remarkable  of  the  group  of  incidents, 
were  the  theme  of  their  conversation.  Tears  were  in  the 
girl's  eyes  unwiped,  in  the  silence  which  followed. 

"  When  I  left  the  land  of  which  this  wilderness  is  a 
part,"  said  the  man,  in  a  sad  voice,  "  in  anger  and  bitter 
ness  I  vowed  when  I  revisited  it — when  I  set  foot  on  it 
again — I  would  come  in  judgment,  in  wrath,  with  sword, 
with  fire.  I  am  not  an  hour  here — I  fall,  get  a  little  rap 


A  Mistake  and  an  Accident.  15 

on  the  head,  plunge  into  one  of  its  smallest  rivers,  am 
drawn  under  a  log,  pulled  out  limp  and  lifeless,  like  a 
soiled  rag.  There  is  no  will  or  purpose  left  in  me." 

"  You  seem  to  me  to  be  your  dearest,  truest  self,  papa, 
dear,"  said  the  child,  laying  her  warm,  tender  cheek 
caressingly  against  his  face.  "  The  land  you  left  was  al 
ways  dear  to  blessed  mother's  heart,"  she  said,  lifting  her 
head. 

"  Yes ;  you  women  have  power  and  strength  for  loves. 
Hatreds  are  necessary  to  steel  a  man's  heart  to  the  pur 
poses  of  justice,  retribution," — turning  away. 

"  Can  hatreds  be  a  part  of  justice  ?  "  asked  the  girl. 

"  Man's  hatred  is  a  part  of  God's  justice,"  he  said, 
with  his  eyes  from  her.  "  How  dead  and  empty  these 
things  seem  now — mere  soulless  sounds,"  added  he,  turn 
ing  his  eyes  to  hers,  with  their  former  tenderness. 

Edith's  face  brightened  as  she  received  again  their 
light.  There  was  a  minute's  silence.  The  softness  stole 
again  into  the  man's  face ;  with  it  came  the  expression  of 
another  thought. 

"  That  face — does  it  come  from  an  old-time  dream,  a 
picture,  or  is  it  a  half-recalled  memory ;  a  face  breaking 
on  one  in  a  crowd,  which  you  are  never  to  see  again  ? 
Have  you  seen  it  before,  Edith  ?  " 

"Never,  I  know,  till  it  broke  from  the  black  water  so 
near  me.  It  laughed  even  then — I  never  shall  forget  it. 
I  never  should  had  I  ever  seen  it  before,"  she  answered. 

"  It  is  a  face  to  haunt  one,"  he  continued.  "  I  caught 
it  on  the  bank,  coming  from  my  daze  I  suppose, 'just  as  I 
felt  my  feet  on  the  ground.  My  eyes  were  open,  and  the 
face  turned  to  me.  It  was  all  as  in  a  dream ;  I  really 
saw  nothing  else.  Have  you  seen  him  since  ?  " 


1 6  The   Torys  Daughter, 

"  Only  a  moment.  He  lingered  here  a  minute — he  had 
to  leave  us  to  ourselves,  you  know." 

"Yes;  we  will  have  him  here  in  the  morning.  I  hope 
to  be  out  to-morrow.  What  can  we  say  to  him  ?  " 

"  What  we  feel — only  we  cannot  express  it.  I  am  sure 
he  will  be  more  embarrassed  than  we." 

"  What  is  your  impression  of  him  ?  "  asked  the  father. 

"Oh,  I  can't  tell — now.  He  is  the  centre  of  light, 
strong,  lovely  ;  the  only  time  I  ever  saw  a  man,  except 
my  father,  so  surrounded,  so  acting,  that  that  word  lovely 
could  apply  to  him.  I  fear  he  is  but  commonplace  after 
all,  and  will  look  like  all  the  rest  in  the  morning;  "  plain 
tively  the  last  words  were  uttered. 

"  How  sad  that  would  be  !  "  almost  laughing.  "  Well, 
give  me  a  good-night  kiss,  and  call  Peters,"  he  said. 

"  It  would  be  sad,"  she  said,  bending,  her  lips  placed 
to  his.  Then,  calling  the  man  from  the  outside,  she 
lifted  the  blanket  which  served  as  a  door,  and  passed  to 
the  inner  room ;  a  lamp  was  burning  in  this  also,  and  she 
found  the  Indian  girl  by  a  small  window,  a  mere  opening 
which  commanded  a  view  of  the  lower  part  of  the  wood, 
made  luminous  by  the  camp-fire  of  the  hunters  already 
mentioned. 

"  What  is  it,  Anita  ? "  she  asked,  going  to  the  girl's 
side. 

"  Him  camp  fire,"  in  her  imperfect  English. 

"  Whose  camp  fire  ?  " 

"  Young  chief." 

"  So  you  call  him  a  chief,"  she  said,  looking  out. 
"  What  makes  you  think  he  is  a  chief  ?  " 

"  Him  chief !  " — positively. 

The  view  disclosed  little  save  the  light. 

"  I  see  nothing  but  the  fire,  and  the  trees,"  said  Edith. 


A  Mistake  and  an  Accident.  17 

"  Him  there  ;  hunter  there." 

"  No  matter ;  my  sister  must  retire.  We  are  not  to 
look  for  young  chiefs,"  she  said,  gayly,  hanging  a  bit  of 
drapery  over  the  opening.  "  Now  say  your  prayer,  as  I 
shall  mine,  and  we  will  go  to  sleep  like  two  good  little 
girls  in  the  wood,"  softly. 

The  Indian  maiden  approached  her,  smiling  so  as  to 
disclose  the  gleam  of  her  fine  teeth,  received  and  re 
turned  her  kiss,  knelt  by  .her  low  couch,  clasped  her  slim 
hands  in  silent  devotion,  and,  already  arrayed  for  rest, 
laid  her  slender  form  to  repose. 

The  experience  of  the  Caucasian  had  been  wide  and 
varied,  from  a  king's  palace  to  an  Indian's  wigwam.  She 
readily  adjusted  herself  to  her  present  rude  surroundings. 
A  well  arranged  series  of  the  spiney,  small  branches  of 
the  fragrant  hemlock,  formed  the  bulk  of  her  bed,  as  that 
of  her  adopted  sister's,  and  changing  the  garments  of 
wakening  life  for  the  robes  of  slumber,  she  composed  her 
self  as  well  as  she  might,  to  await  the  change. 

This  was  a  new  experience — fright,  actual  terror.  Her 
fine  nerves  were  greatly  shaken.  Her  woman's  tender 
ness,  her  sensibility,  her  imagination,  had  all,  powerfully, 
suddenly,  without  warning,  been  appealed  to.  The  scene 
of  the  river  took  possession  of  her.  She  did  not  know 
when  the  memory  of  it  became  a  vision  of  sleep.  She 
again  came  upon  the  raft,  crossed,  and  found  a  drowned 
man — the  young  hunter — on  the  river  bank  ;  and  was  not 
greatly  frightened  by  the  spectacle  as  she  thought.  The 
scene  changed  with  the  facility  of  dream-power.  There 
had  been  a  great  battle.  The  echoes  of  its  guns,  voices 
and  cries  were  still  in  her  ears.  She  was  on  the  field 
where  it  was  fought,  strewn  with  its  grim  and  ghastly 
sights.  Some  one  she  was  looking  for;  whom,  she  could 


1 8  The  Torys  Daughter. 

not  at  first  tell.  She  came  upon  the  stark  corpse  of  the 
young  hunter.  It  was  him  she  sought  as  it  then  came  to 
her.  Uttering  a  loud  cry  of  pain  and  horror,  she  awoke. 
So  vivid  was  the  impression  that  the  vision  remained  after 
she  awoke.  As  it  faded,  she  found  Anita,  the  Indian 
maiden,  bending  over  her. 

"  Tell  Nita,"  said  the  child,  with  tender  solicitude. 

"  O  Nita," — greatly  distressed — "  I  dreamed  the  young 
chief  was  killed  in  battle  and  I  found  him.  What  can  it 
mean  ? " 

"  My  sister  find  him  ?  " 

"  I  was  looking  for  him,  and  I  found  him." 

"  Happy  girl !  Look  for  chief,  find  him  killed,  him 
alway  come  back  from  war."  Very  brightly  this  was  said. 

"  O  Anita,  is  that  the  real  Indian  of  it  ?  " 

"  All  Indians  say  that,"  said  the  delighted  child. 

Edith  arose,  turned  up  the  lamp,  and  looked  out  of  the 
small  window.  The  camp-fire  had  burnt  down,  leaving  a 
dull  red  glow  on  tree-trunks,  limbs  and  foliage.  From  a 
wide  rift  in  the  clouds  the  moon  was  looking  into  the  old 
wood,  where  the  wind,  dying,  was  heard  in  little  sighs  and 
moans.  She  again  sought  her  couch,  musing  on  Anita's 
rendering  of  her  dreadful  dream,  and  finally  lapsed  to 
restful  slumber. 

The  young  hunter's  last  act  was  to  enquire  of  the  condi 
tion  of  the  injured  man,  where  he  found  a  guard  as  Car 
ter  predicted. 

His  manner  of  approach  was  reported  to  the  captain 
the  next  morning,  and  confirmed  his  impression  as  to  the 
young  man's  familiarity  with  military  usages. 


CHAPTER  II. 

A   MEMORY. 

THE  storm  disappeared,  the  clouds  passed,  the 
winds  died,  the  waves  of  shallow  Lake  Erie  sub 
sided,  and  the  sun  of  the  next  morning  touched  the  col 
ored  foliage  of  the  wood  with  warm  splendor.  The  moist 
ure  in  the  atmosphere  was  changed  to  frost,  aiding  to 
detach  the  ripe  leaves,  which  were  here  and  there  through 
the  wood  dropping  to  the  ground,  still  pranked  with  per 
fect  greenery. 

The  injured  man  resumed  his  garments,  his  head  sore 
and  shaken  from  the  blow,  a  little  languid  from  the 
nervous  shock,  yet  rejoicing  at  his  escape.  He  stepped 
out  where  the  captain  awaited  him,  and  the  two  had  an 
earnest,  low-voiced  discussion  of  their  position  and  sur 
roundings,  the  voice  and  manner  of  the  elder  showing 
that  their  effect  on  him  was  depressing. 

With  the  light,  the  elder  hunter  from  the  high,  cliffy 
shore  of  the  lake  carefully  scanned  its  now  serene  sur 
face.  Not  a  sail  was  in  sight.  He  turned  back,  gath 
ering  up  his  ample  morning  catch  of  the  famous  bass. 
One  thing  was  settled  :  the  strangers  were  not  depending 
on  aid  from  the  lake, — not  immediate  aid.  Peters  and 
the  men  were  busy  about  the  morning  meal,  going  and 
coming  to  and  from  the  fire  and  spring  of  the  hunters, 
where  the  cooking  was  done. 

19 


2O  The  Torys  Daughter. 

Edith  slept  well  into  the  morning.  Anita  stole  out  and 
returned  without  waking  her,  and  stood  observing,  when 
she  came  from  her  dreamless  slumber. 

"  Oh — we  are  here,  little  sister,"  she  exclaimed,  as  all 
the  surrounding  and  late  incidents  flashed  back  upon  her. 

"  All  here,"  answered  the  bright  child,  showing  her 
teeth,  as  she  approached  her  adopted  sister. 

"  How  bright  and  lovely  you  look,  Anita,"  she  cried,  as 
the  girl  came  into  the  stronger  light.  "  That  ribbon 
lights  up  your  glossy  hair  beautifully.  Have  you  seen 
my  father  ?  " 

"  Him  out,  talk  with  captain." 

"  Oh,  he  is  out !  I  am  so  glad  ;  how  does  he  look  ?  " 

"  Him  pale  like,  you  call  it ;  speaks  well,  call  me  and 
smile,  only  pale." 

Anita  was  a  close  observer  of  Edith's  toilet  as  it  pro 
gressed,  alert  to  assist,  and  quick  to  catch  and  treasure  up 
all  she  saw.  She  noticed  unusual  care,  much  consulting 
of  the  hand-glass,  and  smiled,  as  with  her  woman's  intui 
tion  she  divined  the  cause.  The  captain  was  still  a 
young  and  certainly  not  a  plain  man.  It  was  not  for  him 
these  maidens  gave  the  touches  to  their  dressing  and  its 
effects.  There  was  a  handsome  young  hunter,  a  hero, 
who  did  things  as  if  born  to  them,  in  the  near  wood. 
One  had  seen  him  that  morning,  and  the  other  expected  to 
soon.  When  her  array  was  complete,  Edith  went  to 
meet  her  father.  She  verified  Anita's  words.  He  bright 
ened  at  her  approach,  yet  something  peculiar  she  ob 
served  in  the  countenance  so  long  and  often  studied ; 
something  like  what  she  remembered  long  ago,  in  London, 
on  the  reception  of  papers  from  America,  never  explained 
to  her,  and  which  now  came  to  her  memory.  The  father 
smiled  as  if  he  divined  her  thought.  Their  meeting, 


A  Memory.  21 

undemonstrative,  was  tender  and  full  of  silent  gratitude, 
which  each  understood.  They  clasped  hands,  the  self- 
contained  man  bent  and  kissed  the  forehead  of  the  daugh 
ter,  and  permitted  her  to  receive  and  answer  the  greeting 
of  the  captain,  to  whom,  in  another  way,  her  presence  was 
as  grateful. 

A  few  bright  words  to  her  father,  and  she  turned  to 
the  radiance  and  loveliness  of  the  young  day  in  the  forest 
about  her. 

"  O  how  exquisitely  lovely!  See,  see,  father,  see,  Anita, 
how  gloriously  the  sun  comes  to  us  through  the  trees  on 
the  hill  from  that  side.  Was  ever  anything  so  rich  and 
warm !  And  the  fragrance  of  the  fallen  leaves, — only  take 
it  in, — rising  to  us  like  the  perfume  of  rich  wine  with  which 
the  earth  has  been  drenched.  Oh  the  birds  ought  to  sing, 
— hark  !  I  do  believe  I  can  hear  them — almost,"  laughing 
at  her  own  exuberance. 

"  I  heard  an  owl  last  night,"  said  the  captain,  though 
exhilarated  by  Edith's  presence,  not  at  the  time  able  to 
even  seem  to  enter  into  the  brightness  of  her  spirits,  set 
free  by  the  removal  of  anxiety  on  account  of  her 
father.  The  speech  was  not  a  good  one,  as  he  saw  him 
self. 

"You  never  hear  anything  but  owls,  Captain.  Of 
course  you  responded  in  their  own  grewsome  way. 
They  know  you  are  here,"  was  her  mocking  answer* 
gayly  spoken,  the  sarcasm  not  wholly  obscured  by  her 
manner. 

An  extemporized  board  with  seats  had  been  set  up 
outside  where  the  sun  fell,  and  Peters  announced  break 
fast,  to  which  the  little  party  at  once  made  its  way. 

The  woods  and  crisp  air  lent  their  united  aid,  and  Car 
ter's  bass  received  full  justice.  Some  ineffective  efforts 


22  The   Tory's  Daughter. 

were  made  by  Edith  to  light  up  the  feast  with  conversa 
tion.  But  the  gentlemen  found  their  surroundings  too  de 
pressing  for  even  her  influence,  united  with  the  flavor  cf 
the  Ohio  bass,  and  she  soon  permitted  them  to  eat  in  si 
lence.  When  they  yielded  to  inability  to  partake  further, 
Edith,  who  had  carried  on  some  talk  with  Anita,  turned 
to  her  father. 

"  Have  you  met  him  this  morning  ?  "  she  asked.  The 
officer  did  not  like  this  word  "him  "  for  the  young  hunter. 

"  No,"  was  the  answer.  "  I  waited  for  you  ;  we  will 
go  to  his  camp  together." 

"  Send  Peters  and  ask  him  to  step  here,"  she  said. 

"  That  will  be  better.  Peters,  Dr.  Gray's — Dr.  Gray's 
compliments  to  the  gentleman,  and  say  to  him  he  will 
oblige  Dr.  and  Miss  Gray,  if  he  will  call  at  his  early 
leisure." 

A  smile  on  the  captain's  face  was  interpreted  by  Edith. 

"  The  captain  thinks  that  Peters  may  not  know  a  gentle 
man  when  he  sees  one,  like  some  others,"  she  said  to  her 
father. 

"  He  certainly  showed  a  gentlemanly  promptitude  on  a 
late  emergency,"  replied  her  father,  a  little  sharply. 

"  While  others  found  it  all  they  could  do  to  care  for 
themselves.  I  must  bear  witness  to  the  fact,  father,  that 
the  captain  took  his  share  of  the  river,  and  I  think  it  was 
every  drop  bonafide,  honest  water  ;  "  laughing. 

"  Thanks,"  from  the  captain  to  the  young  lady. 
"  Floating  bits  of  disunited  wood  are  not  a  good  base  for 
prompt  action,"  he  added. 

"  Well,  Anita  and  I  did  not  unite  them,  did  we  ?  "  said 
the  girl  to  her  sister.  "  If  we  had,  they  would  have 
been  constant ;  "  and  the  two  laughed,  and  a  little  to 
the  captain's  discomfiture. 


A  Memory.  23 

"  I  admit  the  great  merit  and  great  service  of  the  gen 
tleman  referred  to,"  said  the  officer.  "  I  feel  that  my 
thanks  are  his  due." 

This  was  really  well  said,  and  met  its  instant  reward. 

"  I   know   you   speak   that  from   your   heart,   bravely 
and  loyally,"  said  Edith  to  him,  frankly. 
.  "  Thanks  !  thanks  !  "  said  the  pleased  gentleman. 

"  'E  will  be  'ere  himmediately,"  reported  the  prompt 
Peters,  who  had  executed  the  mission. 

"  I  will  be  excused  from  the  interview,"  said  the 
thoughtful  captain ;  "  but  remain  within  call,"  he  added, 
moving  away  among  the  trees.  Anita  arose,  looking  to 
Edith  for  direction. 

"  My  sister  will  remain,"  said  the  young  lady  to  the 
greatly  pleased  girl,  passing  an  arm  about  her  slender  form. 

They  had  not  long  to  wait. 

The  young  hunter  came  lightly  up  the  steep,  paused  at 
the  brow  to  determine  the  position  of  those  who  wished 
his  presence.  Discovering  them,  and  not  remote,  he  re 
moved  his  foraging  cap,  and  approached  them  a  little 
rapidly.  From  the  instant  he  stood  fully  in  her  sight  in 
the  strong  light,  the  fear  that  he  might  be  regarded  as 
commonplace  vanished  from  Edith's  mind.  A  long 
drawn  breath  witnessed  her  relief. 

He  looked  taller  this  morning,  carrying  his  head  well ; 
not  strictly  handsome  by  rule,  but  much  better,  his  face 
and  eyes  full  of  gay  spirit,  and  ready  to  break  into  a 
laugh — alway  ready  to  laugh.  As  he  came  forward,  Dr. 
Gray  and  the  girls  advanced  to  meet  him,  the  former 
resting  his  eyes  intently  on  the  youth's  face. 

"  I  am  very,  very  glad,"  cried  the  young  man,  in  a  mu 
sical,  ringing  voice, ''  to  see  you  so  well  this  morning,  Dr. 
Gray ;  "  extending  his  hands  to  him. 


24  The   Torys  DaugJiter. 

"  I  owe  it  to  you  that  I  see  this  morning  at  all,  my  he 
roic  preserver,"  said  the  deeply  moved  man,  clasping  the 
extended  hands  in  his  own. 

"  Oh,  I  had  not  thought  that ! "  exclaimed  the  young 
hunter,  a  little  startled ;  and  turning  to  Edith,  "  I  had  not 
thought  the  danger  great/' 

"To  one  so  strong  and  brave,  it  may  not  have  been. 
To  him,  to  us — "she  paused,  much  moved.  "Under 
God,  I  owe  it  to  you  I  am  not  an  orphan.  I — I  cannot 
express  my  gratitude  in  words/'  she  said,  extending  her 
hand,  her  voice  breaking,  and  tears  starting  from  her 
eyes. 

"Indeed!  indeed,  Miss  Gray!"  said  the  young  man, 
thoroughly  surprised,  taking  the  proffered  hand.  "  Your 
— your  emotion,  your  thanks  oppress  me.  I  must  protest 
— as — as  one  not  deserving ; "  now  scarcely  less  moved 
himself. 

"  Her  words  are  true,"  said  the  father,  solemnly.  "Be 
fore  any  of  my  party  could  have  rendered  aid,  it  would 
have  been,  unavailing.  This  intrepid  Indian  girl,  my 
daughter,  unembarrassed  by  others,,  might  possibly  have 
helped  me." 

"  I  saw  it  quite  all,  and,  fortunately,  I  was  near.  I 
may  not  have  appreciated  all  the  surroundings.  What  I 
did  seems  so  little,"  replied  the  hunter,  his  face  now 
breaking  into  a  laugh. 

"  I  really  am  glad  you  bear  it  so  lightly.  It  seems  to 
lighten  the  burden  of  obligation,"  said  Edith,  smiling, 
and  lifting  her  frank  eyes  to  his  again. 

"  Oh,  it  was  a  little  accident,  in  which  we  all  bore  our 
parts  well — let  us  think,"  renewing  his  laugh.  All  this 
time  he  held  the  girl's  hand,  never  so  long  a  willing  cap 
tive  before.  Their  faces,  each  of  such  excellence,  near 


A  Memory.  25 

each  other  ;  a  rare  pair,  standing  in  the  glorious  sunshine, 
in  the  perfumed  wood.  The  loveliness,  the  perfection  of 
the  picture,  it  may  have  been,  yet  something  indescriba 
ble;  the  father  saw  in  it,  as  did  the  Indian  girl,  who  felt  it 
as  well — something  that  caused  the  servant  Peters  to 
pause  and  look  at  them. 

"  You  will  not  think  us  slow  in  making  our  acknowl 
edgments,"  said  Edith,  who  unconsciously  felt  the  charm 
of  the  situation. 

The  youth  laughed.  "  I  never  thought  of  it  all.  Had 
I  an  idea  of  your  estimate  of  the  incident,  I  fear  I 
should  have  been  slow  to  give  you  a  chance,"  he  an 
swered,  gayly. 

"  I  do  believe  he  would,"  said  the  now  vivacious 
Edith  to  her  father,  laughing  herself. 

"  Such  an  incident  as  last  night  makes  life  friends  of 
the  actors,'"'  said  he,  in  reply.  "  But  our  friend  will  re 
member  that  we  are  yet  to  learn  his  name,"  he  added. 

"  Oh — oh — oh,  I  thought  of  that  as  I  came  up  the  hill, 
but  it  went  out  of  me  ;  "  laughing.  "  My  name  is  Dud 
ley,"  observing  a  sort  of  spasm  as  of  pain,  or  of  sudden 
strong  emotion,  which  struck  the  face  of  Dr.  Gray,  and 
the  meeting  of  the  eyes  of  father  and  daughter  as  he 
paused  at  the  name.  "  Dudley,"  he  repeated  ; "  Cliffton — 
my  mother's  name — Cliffton  Dudley  ;  "  still  noticing  a 
changing  expression  on  the  father's  face.  "  Perhaps  I 
should  say  that  was  my  Boston  name.  In  New  York, 
where  I  grew  up  with  my  mother's  family,  I  am  called 
Dudley  Cliffton." 

"  Your  father  was  of  Boston  ? "  asked  the  gentleman. 
"  What  was  his  first  name  ?  I've  heard  of  the  Boston 
Dudleys." 

"Philip.     I  am  one  whose  acquaintances  shorten  up 


26  The  Torys  Daughter. 

his  name.  I  am  often  Cliff  Dudley  when  not  reduced 
to  Cliff  Dud." 

"  Or  Dud  Cliff,"  added  Edith,  catching  his  gay  spirit, 
and  feeling  as  if  she  had  always  known  him.  She  went 
on,  "  coming  up  the  hill  you  were  trying  to  think  which 
you  were,  Dud  Cliff  or  Cliff  Dud  ;  "  laughing. 

"Well  I  was  one  or  the  other  and  the  difference  was 
slight." 

Mr.  Gray  turned  away  to  beckon  the  captain  forward. 
Edith  still  permitting  her  hand  to  be  retained,  turned  the 
young  hunter  to  Anita,  a  charmed  spectator  of  the  little 
scene  between  the  three. 

"  My  Indian  princess,  orphan  daughter  of  a  famous 
chief,  and  my  adopted  sister,"  she  said  to  him.  To  her 
— "  He  is  Mr.  Dudley — a  chief  of  the  '  Long  Knives,1 
and  not  a  bit  dangerous  to  young  girls  in  the  woods," 
laughing. 

The  young  girl  received  him  when  now  he  turned  fully 
to  her,  with  a  shy,  very  pretty  native  grace,  peculiar  to 
herself,  presenting  her  small,  slim  brown  hand,  that  had 
never  known  the  toil  of  an  Indian  woman,  her  face  more 
than  comely,  lighting  up  like  a  stained  transparency  from 
within. 

"  She  insists  you  are  a  chief ; "  Edith  added  to  the 
young  man. 

"  Him  be  chief  ; "  said  Anita  sententiously. 

"  We  are  all  chiefs  on  this  side,"  said  Dudley.  "  I  am 
very  glad  to  be  presented  to  you,  so  I  may  claim  your 
acquaintance,  when  I  see  you  hereafter,"  he  said,  very 
pleasantly  to  her. 

"  Anita  glad,"  she  answered,  withdrawing  her  hand 
which  she  placed  behind  her. 

"  At  the  river  you   held    Miss   Gray  from   leaping   in 


A  Memory.  27 

after  her  father ;  "  he  said,  reminding  her  of  the  inci 
dent. 

"  I  was  an  incumbrance.  She  can  swim,  and  is  abso 
lutely  fearless.  She  would  have  leaped  in  and  tried  to 
save  him,  had  she  been  alone,"  said  Edith,  warmly. 

"  I  have  not  the  least  doubt  of  it ;  "  said  Dudley  with 
fervor.  A  little  color  struggled  to  the  tawny  cheek  of 
the  Indian  girl,  moved  by  the  warmth  of  his  manner. 

"  She  has  been  with  us  five  or  six  months.  I  hoped  to 
meet  some  of  her  kindred  when  we  landed  here  ; "  said 
Edith,  in  explanation  to  which  the  young  man  silently 
bowed. 

"  Mr.  Dudley,  "  said  Dr.  Gray,  now  approaching  the 
group,  with  the  captain.  "  My  friend,  Mr.  Home." 

"  Of  the  army,"  added  the  young  American,  as  if  that 
but  completed  the  proper  designation ;  at  the  same  time 
lifting  his  cap,  which  he  still  retained  in  his  hand,  now 
holding  it  in  both  against  his  breast ;  he  bowed  a  little 
ceremoniously  over  it,  repeating  the  name.  "  Mr.  Home 
— it  gives  me  great  pleasure  to  be  named  to  you  ;  "  he 
said  gravely. 

The  Englishman  observed  him  coolly  an  instant  and 
said  pleasantly  :  "  The  pleasure  is  mutual,  Mr.  Dudley," 
in  the  more  youthful  man's  manner,  when  they  both 
laughed.  Then  the  Englishman  advanced,  cordially  ex 
tending  his  hand  said,  "  I  wish  to  congratulate  you  for 
your  intrepid  conduct  of  yesterday.  You  may  under 
estimate  it ;  you  may  not  know  the  value  of  the  life  you 
saved  to — to  us  all ;  my  thanks  are  due  you  also." 

"  Mr.  Home — Mr.  Home,  I  declare,  I  protest,"  ex 
claimed  the  American,  stepping  backward,  throwing  up 
his  hands — laughing,  the  color  deepening  on  his  ruddy, 
sunburned  cheek,  ingenuously. 


28  The    Tory's  DaugJiter. 

It  was  a  manly  face,  to  endure  increase  of  color,  and 
yet  gain.  He  looked  at  Edith,  at  Dr.  Gray,  Anita,  appeal- 
ingly — the  girls  laughed  in  the  pleasant  way  of  girls.  The 
Doctor  smiled  at  his  dismay  and  helplessness. 

"  Well,  I  don't  care,  it  is  a  little  discouraging ;  "  he 
exclaimed,  now  laughing  lugubriously,  in  which  even  Dr. 
Gray  joined. 

"  It  is  really  too  bad,  going  round  jumping  into  rivers, 
and  things,  getting  your  clothes  all  wet,  pulling  out  folk 
you  don't  know,  getting  thanked,  and  yourself  talked 
about  as  a  hero.  Oh,  it  is  too  funny  for  anything  in  this 
world  ;  "  cried  Edith,  now  going  off  into  peals  of  merry 
laughter. 

It  must  be  admitted  that  Home  did  not  join  in  it  very 
cordially.  Over  his  ears  in  love  with  this  very  young 
lady,  and  still  in  the  gravest  doubt  after  two  years,  and 
here  this  prig,  by  some  lucky  accident,  had  fallen  into 
the  depths  of  her  grace,  yet  too  stupid  to  be  aware  of 
his  luck — the  only  tolerable  feature  of  the  affair,  to  him. 

A  word  of  Dudley's  lingered  in  the  mind  of  Dr.  Gray, 
who,  as  the  mirth  of  the  young  people  subsided,  said  to 
him,  "  Mr.  Home  is  late  of  the  army,  and  we  have  two 
or  three,  recently  discharged  soldiers.  We  address  him 
by  his  title  still." 

"  We  may  both  have  served,"  said  the  claimed  late 
soldier.  This  he  directed  to  the  American. 

"  We  hardly  have  an  army;  my  father  served  through  the 
old  war,"  was  Dudley's  evasive  and  modest  answer. 

Edith  did  not  like  this  grave  turn.  "  There  is  another 
important  cause  for  our  gratitude — we  might  as  well  finish 
you — the  wonderful  bass  ;  with  the  loveliest  brown  ;  "  she 
cried. 


A    Memory.  29 

"  Ah — your  thanks  are  due  to  Carter  for  them.  May 
I  be  present  when  you  render  them  !  " 

"  And  the  venison,"  suggested  Anita,  thinking  that 
must  have  come  by  the  younger  hunter's  hand. 

"  Oh,  well,  Carter  roasted  that.  It  was  a  small  affair. 
Anyone  can  shoot  a  deer.  Anything  further?"  he  asked, 
laughing. 

"You  surrendered  your  house  to  us,"  added  Dr. 
Gray. 

"All  the  huts,  for  that  matter,"  said  Home,  trying  to 
be  gracious,  and  succeeding  in  being  grim. 

"  When  you  see  my  camp  by  the  spring,  gentlemen, 
you  will  not  wonder  at  my  readiness  to  do  that,"  he 
answered.  "  These  huts,  as  the  woods,  were  open  to  any 
who  cared  to  occupy  them.  They  were  deserted  about 
the  time  Carter's  brother  settled  at  Cleveland  twelve  or 
thirteen  years  ago, — he  says." 

"They  are  wattled,  you  see,  Edith,"  said  Dr.  Gray  to 
the  young  lady.  "That  is  an  old  German  method  of 
fastening  the  logs  together  in  a  wall,  by  green  withs.  We 
notch  them  together  in  this  country.  They  have  kept 
their  places  well  indeed.  Who  were  they  built  by,  Mr. 
Dudley?" 

"  Said  to  be  by  the  Moravians.  They  undertook  to 
establish  a  town  here,  long  ago." 

"  I  never  heard  of  that,"  said  Gray.  "  They  built  quite 
a  town  on  the  Huron." 

"  Yes,  so  I've  been  told.  They  began  here ;  a  hostile 
Delaware  chief  compelled  them  to  leave  this  place,  and 
they  removed  to  the  Huron.  I  heard  it  talked  of  at 
Cleveland  last  year." 

"  Have  you  heard  of  the  Huron  Moravians  recently  ?  " 
asked  Dr.  Gray. 


3O  The   Torys  Daughter. 

"  Oh  no,  there  are  none  there  now ;  at  least  it  was  said 
they  left  that  region  some  years  ago." 

"  You  must  be  misinformed.  They  are  certainly  there 
now,"  said  Home,  very  decisively,  turning  away. 

"  Oh,  very  possibly.  My  informants  had  no  personal 
knowledge  of  them."  Dudley  answered. 

"  You  may  have  heard,"  said  Home,  now  coming  for 
ward  for  the  first  time,  as  spokesman,  "that  much  inter 
est  is  felt  on  the  other  side  in  the  Moravians  and  their 
missions.  There  was  a  considerable  mission  on  the 
Huron,  and  also  on  the  Sandusky  Bay  and  river ;  we 
are  really  on  a  mission  from  the  Anglo-Canadian  leaders, 
to  these  Huron  Moravians,  and  their  native  friends.  We 
were  to  have  been,  and  supposed  we  were,  landed  on  the 
right  bank  of  the  Huron.  A  nasty  mistake  dropped  us  in 
these  beastly  woods  " — these  adjectives  would  drop  out. 
"  We  are  of  course  provided  with  papers,  which  we  will 
cheerfully  submit,  if  our  presence  is  questioned  here." 

He  paused,  and  Dr.  Gray  said — "You  may  see,  Mr. 
Dudley,  that  Home's  statement  is  also  preliminary  to  the 
important  and  apparently  difficult  matter — means  to  pur 
sue  our  journey  to  the  Huron. 

"  I  have  a  stanch  boat,  carrying  a  sail,  just  up  in  a 
creek  here,  safe  and  ample,  in  which  I  will  carry  you  gen 
tlemen  and  the  young  ladies,  with  your  traps  to  the 
Huron.  Your  men  can  easily  make  the  inarch,"  said 
Dudley,  frankly.  A  moment's  consultation  in  which  Edith 
took  part,  and  this  was  declined  with  thanks. 

There  followed  much  talk.  Dudley  said  horses  could 
be  procured  at  Cleveland,  of  Carter's  brother,  or  through 
him  ;  and  he  was  asked  about  Carter. 

"  He  was  a  native  of  New  Hampshire,  grew  up  a  hun 
ter,  a  scout  of  the  border,  a  sharpshooter,  an  honest,  ten- 


A  Memory.  31 

der  hearted,  intrepid  man,  silent  and  simple  ;  not  without 
prejudices  against  his  enemies  of  the  old  war,  of  both 
races,"  was  Dudley's  account  of  him. 

Then  a  further  consultation  between  Gray  and  Home, 
when  the  captain  went  with  Dudley  to  find  Carter. 

As  they  moved  away,  Edith  ran  up  to  her  father,  placed 
her  hands  on  his  shoulders,  saying — "  Oh,  father !  can 
this  be  a  son  of  that  Dudley  ?"  in  a  plaintive,  anxious 
voice. 

"  His  only  son — my  child.  My  brain  worked  that  out 
while  I  slept." 

"  Was  he  like  this  young  man,  born  of  sunshine  and 
happy  spirits  ?  " 

"Very  like  him,  at  the  same  age." 

"  Oh,  there  must  have  been  some  awful — awful  mistake 
some — " 

"  Hush !  hush  !  child.  There  was.  That  all  came  to 
me  ten  years  ago." 

"  Oh,  father  !  and  you  never  told  me." 

"  No,  no,  I  have  always  felt  guilty  toward  you,  and 
this  has  come  upon  me  to  crush  me,"  placing  his  hand  to 
his  head. 

"  Oh,  this  is  not  punishment !  it  is  a  reward,  it  brings 
joy,"  cried  she. 

"  God  grant  it.     It  is  very  dark  to  me." 

"  Dark  ?  the  world  is  full  of  sunshine  ;  full  of  God." 

"  Yes,  you  and  this  youth  can  yet  see  God  in  this  sun 
shine.  I  must  shut  that  out,  and  seek  the  inner  light ;  " 
sadly  he  said  this. 

"  He  was  like  this  Cliffton,  and  my  mother  preferred 
you,  loved  you  instead,  bless  her  dear  girl  heart !  How 
beautiful  you  must  have  been — are  still.  You  blessed 
papa,"  caressing  him. 


32  TIic   Tory's  Daughter. 

"  There,  my  children,  run  round  here  in  the  woods. 
Light  will  come  to  me.  God's  way  will  be  made  clear,  if 
not  his  purpose.  I  am  glad  that  you  can  regard  this  as 
reward,"  he  said  sadly.  "I  hope  nothing  but  joy  will 
spring  from  joy.  There — I  will  go  and  shut  out  this 
light,  for  the  truer."  He  made  his  way  toward  the  cabin, 
leaving  the  light-hearted  girls  to  their  devices  in  the 
woods,  their  thoughts  and  words  tracing  airy  embroi 
deries  about  the  name  and  form  of  the  young  American. 

The  two  gentlemen  found  Carter  at  the  camp  by  the 
spring.  Dudley  told  him  Captain  Home  wished  to  se 
cure  him  as  a  guide  to  Cleveland ;  which  he  readily  un 
dertook,  and  the  Englishman  returned  to  the  hut  for 
slight  preparation.  He  would  start  at  once. 

"  No  harm  can  come  on't ;  and  I'de  like  to  let  'em 
know  enny  way  ;  "  Carter  said  to  Dudley.  "Mebby  'ees 
playin'  off  to  sort  o'  spy  out  the  place  tho',"  he  added. 

"  Spy  out  the  place  ?  Good  Lord  !  what  have  we  there 
that  anyone  can  care  to  see  ?  If  they  want  to,  anyone 
can  go  there  any  time,  by  land  or  lake." 

"That's  so.  Per'aps  'twould  do  'em  no  good  to  see 
thare  want  nothin'  there ;  "  was  the  thoughtful  answer. 

Home  had  the  spirit  and  pluck  of  an  Englishman. 
His  only  regret  for  the  journey  to  Cleveland,  was  the  two 
days  absence  from  Edith  ;  not  lessened  by  the  fact  that 
she  would  be  left  quite  dependent  on  Dudley.  He  lin 
gered  near  her  as  long  as  excuse  could  be  found,  as  she 
saw.  It  is  not  in  woman's  nature  to  deplore  the  reluc 
tance  a  brave  man  might  feel  at  leaving  her. 

He  said  few  words  to  her,  several  on  her  account  to 
the  corporal  left  in  charge  during  his  absence.  He 
would  be  back  toward  evening  the  next  day.  Then  he 
took  leave,  though  the  girls  went  to  see  him  off,  with  his 


A   Memory.  33 

guide,  of  whom  they  had  but  a  passing  glimpse.  Edith 
felt  a  special  interest  in  him,  and  in  return  he  was  a  shy 
admirer  of  hers  at  long  range.  They  found  him  armed 
with  his  rifle,  awaiting  their  approach,  near  the  camp,  a 
place  of  profound  interest  to  the  girls.  Without  a  word 
the  old  hunter  led  the  way  along  the  brow  of  the  hill,  a 
hundred  yards  up  stream  to  a  point  where  it  was  broken 
down  for  the  passage  of  a  small  confluent  of  the  river,  in 
which,  near  its  mouth,  lay  Dudley's  boat,  by  the  low  im 
mediate  bank,  her  spar  with  the  sail  neatly  furled  and 
corded  leaning  against  a  tree.  Here  with  the  oars  they 
found  the  young  hunter,  awaiting  to  set  them  across  the 
river. 

"  It  is  a  lovely  boat !  I  should  feel  safe  in  her — with  a 
good  sailor  ;  "  said  Edith  laughing,  her  appreciative  eyes 
taking  in  the  little  craft's  just  proportions,  and  turning 
to  the  boatman. 

"  You  would  be  absolutely  safe;  she  would  carry  you  to 
the  Huron,"  said  he.  "If  you  had  a  good  sailor,  "  laugh 
ing  in  turn. 

"She'd  want  good  weather;  "  muttered  Carter,  not  in 
timating  which  she  he  meant,  taking  a  standing  place  in 
the  bow  of  the  craft. 

"  A  good  many  goods  would  have  to  concur ; "  ans 
wered  the  young  lady,  carelessly. 

Home  stepped  on  board.  Edith  noticed  still  abundant 
space  in  the  boat,  and  cast  her  eyes  to  the  east  bank  of 
the  narrow  river,  as  if  estimating  the  voyage.  They  then 
fell  to  the  eyes  of  the  boatman  fixed  on  her  own  face. 
She  construed  the  smile  that  lit  them  up  as  an  invitation 
to  make  it;  the  boat  still  motionless. 

"Anita,  we  will  see  Captain  Home  start  from  the  other 
3 


34  The  Tory's  Daughter. 

side,  "  she  said,  accepting    Dudley's  hand,  and  stepping 
into  the  boat,  as  did  the  Indian  girl,  unaided. 

Had  Edith  consulted  the  eyes  of  Captain  Home,  she 
might  have  doubted  whether  a  more  speedy  parting  on 
the  west  bank  would  not  be  as  grateful  to  his  feelings. 
Dudley  pushed  the  boat  from  the  bank,  turned  her  bow 
down  stream,  and  a  sweep  or  two  sent  her  into  the  dark 
water  of  the  full  banked  river.  As  they  gained  the  open 
of  its  now  sunlit  tide,  Edith  exclaimed — "  Oh  !  if  we  had 
known,  we  should  have  come  up  to  this  little  creek,  and 
seen  this  lovely  boat  and  then — "  finishing  with  a  look, 
as  if  all  had  then  been  well. 

"  If  we'd  known  we  would  not  have  come  up  this  river 
of  beastly  omen  at  all ;  and  then — "  responded  Home. 

"  Well,  then  what  ?  It  is  of  such  moment  to  speculate 
of  what  might  be,  if  that  which  is  were  not.  I  am  so 
happy  to-day  at  our  escape  from  yesterday  that  I  am 
almost  glad  we  did  come,"  was  Edith's  response  ;  an 
swering  Dudley's  eyes  also,  whom  she  sat  facing.  "  I 
wonder  what  will  happen  from  this — this — "  finishing 
with  a  little  laugh  this  time,  turning  her  eyes  into  the 
grand,  sunlit  wood,  from  which  they  fell  to  the  surface  of 
the  shining  river,  which  bore  many  colored  leaves  down 
ward. 

"  O  the  lovely  lost  things  !  "  she  said,  skimming  three 
or  four  out  with  her  ungloved  hand,  from  the  water.  "  I 
wonder  if  the  mother  trees  are  sad  at  parting  with 
them ! "  her  face  and  voice  now  pensive  with  the 
thought. 

"  They  take  it  about  as  most  people  do  ;  "  replied  Home, 
with  grim  irony. 

"  You  remember,  Anita,  he  heard  an  owl  sing  last 
night."  She  responded  in  answer — 


A  Memory.  35 

"Me  remember,"  said  the  child  with  a  gleam  of  her 
teeth. 

The  boat  touched  the  other  bank,  the  guant  old  hunter 
stepped  upon  it,  pulled  the  bow  up  a  little,  straightened 
himself  up  with  his  head  still  bent,  his  back  to  the  boat, 
he  called  out — "  Wai,  look  out !  "  and  strode  a  few  yards 
up  the  bank,  where  he  paused  for  his  companion. 

"  His  leave  taking,"  said  Dudley  laughing. 

"  Which  means  ?  "  from  the  young  lady. 

"  Oh,  everything — all  last  words.  '  Good-by,'  'take  care 
of  yourself  ' — '  of  all  the  things  ; '  '  everybody,  I  leave  be 
hind.'  It  was  addressed  specially  to  me,"  was  Dudley's 
explanation. 

As  the  captain  now  followed  Carter  from  the  boat — 
"  Wai,  look  out,"  called  Edith  to  him  ;  in  the  manner 
and  voice  so  like  the  hunter,  as  to  produce  a  laugh.  "  I 
spoke  it  in  its  narrowest  sense,  and  as  purely  supple 
mental — Captain  ;  "  she  added. 

"  Oh,  well,  I  re-echo  it  to  Dudley,"  replied  the  English 
man  pleasantly,  moving  to  join  the  waiting  guide. 

"  Look  out,"  responded  Dudley,  to  him,  cordially  in 
reply. 

Home  faced  about  at  Carter's  side,  lifted  his  hat,  placed 
the  tips  of  his  fingers  to  his  lips,  and  waved  the  hand- 
back,  his  eyes  on  Edith,  and  turning  again  the  two  were 
soon  lost  amid  the  trees. 

"  O  Anita  !  "  cried  the  girl,  with  a  sigh  of  relief,  as  the 
two  disappeared,  her  face  lighting  with  a  happy  smile. 
"  Oh,  my  precious  little  sister  !  not  much  taller  than  am 
I,  what  a  time  we  will  have  !  Two  full  days  all  to  our 
selves,  in  these  loveliest  old  woods  !  We  will  run  in  them, 
hide  in  them,  rustle  the  new  fallen  leaves  ;  we  will  go 
chestnutting  too." 


36  The  Tory's  Daughter. 

"  Me  saw  lovely  ones,"  said  the  pleased  Indian 
child. 

"  You  would  not  care  to  see  the  river  from  the  boat  ? " 
asked  Dudley,  a  little  hesitatingly,  addressing  Edith. 

"  Well,  not  now — my  father — "  She  checked  herself, 
and  remained  silent. 

"  I  beg  pardon,"  his  face  falling.  "  I  forget  I  am  such 
a  stranger,  and  no  one  to  vouch  for  me,"  he  replied. 

"You  need  no  one  to  vouch  for  you,  and  you  are  not 
a  stranger,  Mr.  Dudley.  What  if  you  had  waited  for 
an  introduction  last  night  ?  "  with  frank  seriousness. 

"  Thank  you — many  thanks,"  he  replied  warmly. 

"  My  father  is  alone,  and  well — a  good  deal  shaken — a 
little  mentally,  by  what  has  happened.  I  must  now  return 
to  him,"  she  said  in  explanation. 

"  How  exceedingly  well  she  says  things,"  was  the  young 
man's  mental  comment. 

"  Perhaps  you  will  permit  me  to  land  you  near  the 
camp?"  he  said,  fully  restored  by  her  words  and  man 
ner. 

"  Where — where  you  found  us  last  night  ?  " 

"  You  might  not  wish  to  see  that  place  ? "  he  asked  by 
way  of  suggestion. 

"  I  very  much  wish  to  see  it,"  she  answered. 

The  boat  was  put  about,  and  a  few  strokes  sent  her 
around  the  bend  of  the  river,  when  a  broad  straight  sweep, 
now  dimpling  in  the  sun,  the  stained  shores  aflame  with 
gorgeous  color,  opened  to  view. 

"  Oh,  how  exquisitely  lovely  !  "  cried  the  girl,  clasping 
her  hands.  "  O  Anita,  it  is  cruel  to  take  you  from  the 
woods  !  We  will  come  and  set  up  our  wigwam  by  this 
river.  It  is  not  of  evil  omen,  as  Mr.  Home  declared." 

Down  the  shining  blue  black  water,  from  bank  to  bank, 


A  Memory.  37 

up  to  the  high  tree  tops,  went  the  girl's  eyes,  to  fall  to  the 
face  and  eyes  of  the  rower,  and  always  to  smile  when  they 
rested  there,  as  if  after  all  the  splendor  of  the  wood,  these 
were  more  excellent,  while  his  eyes  were  ever  on  her 
countenance.  Few  faces  were  more  deserving,  so  young, 
so  fresh,  so  satisfying  ;  the  high  set-apart  expression,  usual 
to  it,  had  vanished.  That  which  at  times  indicated 
long  pursued  thought,  and  purpose,  of  experience  of 
twice  her  years,  given  to  contemplation,  yielded  to  the 
warmth  of  moved  pulse,  with  a  liquid  light  in  her  eyes. 

Her  words  of  her  father  returned  to  Dudley. 

"  It  might  do  Dr.  Gray  good  to  make  a  little  excursion 
on  the  river  ;  "  he  suggested. 

Her  eyes  came  back,  a  little  as  uncomprehending — "  Oh, 
my  father  !  I  am  sure  it  would,  and  Anita  and  I  will 
gladly  be  of  the  party ; "  now  coloring  very  prettily. 
The  youth  noticed  it.  He  did  not  care  why  it  came. 
They  approached  the  place  of  the  yesterday's  adventure, 
then  so  dark  and  repulsive,  now  innocent  in  the  warm  light. 
"  Is  this  the  place  ?  "  cried  Edith,  not  at  first  recognizing 
it  in  the  changing  effect  of  the  light. — "  So  bright,  with 
the  laughing  water  running  in  little  swirls  and  gurgles, 
and  yesterday  so  black  and  hungry  ?  As  I  live  it  is  !  and 
there  are  some  of  the  very  woods  of  our  treacherous  raft 
bobbleing round  in  the  eddy  now.  Oh,  you  bad  things  ;  I'll 
not  trust  you  again  ; "  shaking  her  finger  in  mock  reproof 
at  the  wobbling  floats. 

They  landed.  As  the  girl  gained  the  bank — "  You  stay 
here  and  watch  him,  Anita.  Somehow  this  is  like  a  lovely 
dream  this  morning  ;  I  am  afraid  it  will  all  vanish,  and 
he  and  his  boat  with  it ;  "  laughing  gayly.  "  Now,  don't 
you  let  him  persuade  you  to  get  into  his  magic  bark 
while  I'm  gone  ;  "  she  said  to  the  girl. 


38  The  Torys  Daughter. 

11  Me  not  'fraid,"  said  the  girl  showing  her  lovely 
teeth. 

" '  Wai,  look  out,'  I'm  afraid  ;  girls  never  are  afraid, 
when  danger  comes  in  this  form  ;  "  she  replied,  laughing, 
and  shaking  her  finger  at  the  youth,  who  stood  by  the 
boat's  prow. 

It  seemed  to  Edith  as  if  she  floated  up  the  hill,  wafted 
by  an  unbreathed  wish,  a  thing  of  light,  warm  color,  and 
fragrance.  Her  thought  was  of  those  she  left.  She 
turned  for  one  glance  of  a  face  now  toward  her,  the  eyes 
lost  in  the  distance.  She  knew  they  were  on  her. 
Anita  stood  by  the  boat  as  if  regarding  its  owner  as  en 
joined. 


CHAPTER  III. 

ECHOES    PAST   AND    PRESENT. 

THE  year  was  at  its  complete  ripeness,  ere  decay  be 
gan.  The  foliage  fell  from  its  perfected  state, 
and  the  forest  was  filled  with  its  fruity  flavor,  as  of 
incense  from  unseen  censers.  The  atmosphere  was  ripe 
and  full,  stimulating  and  satisfying.  One  felt  embraced 
and  sustained  by  it,  could  lean  upon  and  trust  it.  A  day 
on  which  life  was  its  own  justification — sufficient  for  itself, 
leaving  no  wish  for  a  morrow.  Beyond  its  sun,  its  vigor, 
its  sensuous  fulness,  there  was  no  need. 

Edith  hastened  to  the  cabin,  and  foun'd  her  father  shut 
in,  buried  in  a  profound,  depressing  study,  in  which  no 
light  had  yet  sprung  to  cheer  his  perplexity,  a  thing  for 
feeling,  emotion,  prayer,  as  well  as  study. 

"  What  does  it  mean  !  that  by  a  sailor's  blunder,  we 
should  come  here  to  find  him,  for  whom  I  once  made  dili 
gent  and  vain  search,"  he  said. 

"  Oh,  I  never  knew  that." 

"There  is  much  you  never  knew,  but  which  I  must 
impart.  So  much  is  clear  to  me  now.  God  has  a  pur 
pose  in  it.  Maybe  my  mission,  to  the  Prince  Regent  so 
important,  was  really  subsidiary  to  God's  greater  busi 
ness." 

"  Well,  papa,  are  you  not  glad  ?  Surely  no  ill  can 
come  to  him.  If  what  you  said  an  hour  ago  be  true,  he 
has  had  hurt  enough  from  us." 

39 


4O  The  Torys  Daughter. 

"  How  can  we  know  ?  It  is  many  sided.  See  this 
people,  drunk  with  their  seeming  success,  are  ripe  for 
punishment.  Unprepared,  a  peaceful,  unarmed  people 
rush  on  a  powerful,  warlike,  armed  Nation,  trained  by 
endless  wars.  How  must  they  fare  ? " 

"  Well,  father — please  hurry  the  argument,  and  go  out 
with  me,  that's  a  dear  papa." 

"  What  can  the  result  be  ?  God's  arm  will  be  bared, 
devastation,  desolation,  blood,  death,  in  all  their  borders. 
It  will  be  a  girdle  of  war  and  woe." 

"  Oh,  father,  you  have  dwelt  on  this  until — " 

"  I  am  an  instrument ;  you  are  one,  set  apart,  by  the 
laying  of  royal  hands  on  your  young  head,"  solemnly. 

"  Father,  will  you  never  forget  your  personal  wrongs  ?  " 

"  Oh,  that  is  all  lost  in  the  wrong  to  the  Sovereign, 
driven  mad  by  the  rebellion  of  this  people — the  very 
land  itself.  This  young  Dudley,  so  gay,  brave  and  noble, 
the  spirit  which  sent  him  to  our  aid,  will  send  him  to  this 
war." 

"  He  takes  his  chance  as  all  brave   men   must,  father." 

"  Knowing  him  now —  are  we  to  arm  his  murderers  ? 
We — you  would  never  have  met  him,  my  child,  but  for 
this." 

"  Can  I  bring  him  harm  ?  It  will  be  but  for  a  day,  our 
seeing  him." 

"  A  day  is  sufficient  for  God's  purpose." 

"  If  it  be  God's  purpose,  let  us  leave  it  to  him.  It  is 
idle  to  try  to  evade  or  avoid." 

"  I  would  have  light  to  walk  by,  so  I  might  not  seem  to 
evade." 

"  The  light  is  outside,  my  dear  father.  You  know  you 
are  my  all.  Go  with  me  out  into  it.  Forget  all  the  past, 
the  Dudleys — we  will  call  him  Cliffton.  Come." 


Echoes  Past  and  Present.  41 

She  pulled  him  to  his  feet,  brought  his  cloak  and  threw 
it  over  his  shoulders,  placed  his  hat  on  his  head,  his  cane 
in  his  hand,  and  drew  him  into  the  warm  sunshine.  She 
was  irresistible. 

"  You  were  dreadfully  shaken  up  by  your  fall,  and  are 
not  the  least  yourself.  We  have  put  off  the  mopes, 
megrims,  and  here  we  are  again.  You  shall  not  go  back 
to  them."  They  gained  the  open,  sunlit  wood.  "  Now 
look  about  you !  see  the  splendor  of  these  untouched 
woods.  What  stained  windows  equal  the  openings  through 
which  the  blessed  light  streams  down  these  cathedral 
domes  ?  Take  in  the  bouquet  of  the  fallen  leaves,"  draw 
ing  in  long  full  breaths  herself.  "Take  the  elixir  of  the 
atmosphere,  full  deep  lungfuls  of  it,"  again  drawing  her 
chest  full  to  its  utmost  capacity. 

He  obeyed  her,  looked  about,  drew  in  the  spiced  air, 
again  and  again,  did  his  best  to  abandon  himself  to  her 
control,  imbibe  her  gay,  bright  spirits.  His  blood  began 
to  move  and  life  to  stir  anew. 

"  Oh,  we  will  fill  you,  saturate  you,  lungs,  chest,  soul  and 
spirit ;  surround  you,  immerse  you,  bathe  you  in  sunlight. 
This  is  God's  day;  we  will  give  in  to  Him  and  it.  To  give 
ourselves  to  it,  is  to  give  to  Him,"  she  cried. 

No  voice  like  her's  had  power  to  charm.  No  presence 
could  so  inspire.  All  her  faculties  were  in  full  play  to 
draw  his  better  self  from  the  darker  and  lower  abyss,  into 
which  his  worse  self  sometimes  plunged  him. 

"  It  is  God's  day  assuredly",  he  said  ;  "  I  will  do  my 
best  to  draw  near  Him  in  its  glory,  and  in  your  way,  with 
you.  My  precious  child,  what  do  darkened  old  men  do 
in  the  presence  of  youth  and  light? 

"  Share  them,  my  own  dear  father ;  with  you  to  bless 


42  The   Torys  Daughter. 

me,  all  others  are  as  nothing  to  me,"  said  Edith,  conduct 
ing  him  toward  the  river. 

"  May  I  remind  my  child  of  these  light  words,  here 
after  ?" 

"  When  you  please  papa — but  they  are  not  light  words, 
save  as  coming  from  a  light  heart." 

Just  below  the  brow  of  the  hill,  stood  Anita,  her  face 
glowing  with  pleasure,  awaiting  their  approach. 

"  What  is  it  ?"  asked  Edith,  running  forward  to  her. 
"  Has  he  got  away —  really  from  you  ?  " 

"  Him  up  there ; "  with  a  gesture  up  the  river,  now 
showing  her  teeth,  so  pleased  was  she  at  Edith's  return. 
"Him  thought  down  there,"  pointing  to  last  night's  land 
ing;  "  not  good  for  my  sister's  father,"  was  the  answer. 

They  changed  the  direction  of  their  walk,  and  Edith 
told  her  father  the  cause,  and  Dudley's  reason  for  the 
new  place  of  taking  the  boat. 

"  Indeed !  Indeed !  How  very  thoughtful ; "  he 
cried,  touched  by  the  young  man's  consideration  for  his 
nerves. 

As  they  approached  the  boatman  at  his  chosen  place 
of  receiving  his  guests,  Edith  called  out  to  him,  "Oh,  here 
you  are,  Mr.  Cliffton  ;  I  really  began  to  fear  my  dream 
would  prove  to  be  a  dream." 

"  Oh,  I'm  not  the  stuff  a  lady's  dreams  are  made  of,"  he 
answered  in  her  vein,  handing  her  to  a  seat  in  the  boat's 
stern,  to  which  he  also  aided  her  father ;  the  agile  Anita 
meantime  found  her  own  place ;  imitating  the  usual 
course  of  Edith,  in  avoiding  the  minor  services  of  gentle 
men.  She  was  the  first  t'o  detect  the  change  of  her  sis 
ter's  usual  manner  toward  this  young  hunter,  which  she 
entirely  approved. 

Laying  his  cap  on  the  seat  by  his  side,  the  youth,  with 


Echoes  Past  and  Present.  43 

the  easy  mastery  of  the  long  ashen  oars,  which  was  noticed 
by  Home  and  at  once  won  the  confidence  of  Dr.  Gray, 
sent  the  boat  up  the  river. 

"  Mr.  Cliffton  says  he  is  not  the  stuff  ladies'  dreams  are 
made  of,"  said  the  exhilarated  girl  to  her  father. 

"  Ah  !  a  rash  speech — a  very  rash  speech,"  said  the 
quickening  man,  looking  into  the  animated  face  and 
laughing  eyes  of  the  youth. 

"  Do  you  know  what  such  dreams  are  made  of,  Mr. 
Cliffton,"  she  asked,  with  seeming  seriousness. 

"  Haven't  the  slightest  notion.  Possibly  they  come 
ready  made,"  he  answered. 

"  This  one  did  to  me,"  she  .said,  casting  her  eyes  over 
the  sunlit  banks,  the  shining  river,  and  letting  them  come 
back  to  the  young  man  so  near.  "  This  one  came  ready 
made  and  you  are  in  it — you  see." 

"  And  dreaming  also  " ;  he  added,  and  the  two  laughed 
a  musical  light  hearted  laugh  in  unison. 

"A  dream  that  an  old  man  may  wake  up  to  and  join 
in  "  ;  said  the  elder  man,  his  face  quite  lighting  from  the 
face  and  eyes  before  him,  and  the  kindling,  almost 
radiant  face  by  his  side. 

"  Oh !  and  you  are  to  wake  up  to  this — wide  awake," 
cried  the  child,  passing  her  hand  within  his  arm.  "  See 
how  gay- and  bright  Anita's  face  is,"  she  said,  looking 
past  the  oarsman  to  the  dark  glowing  face  of  the  Indian 
girl  in  the  bow.  "  She  dreams.  Don't  you  suppose  two 
may  dream  the  same  dream  at  the  same  time  ? "  she 
asked. 

"  And  each  conscious  that  the  other  dreams  the  same 
dream  ?"  Dudley  asked. 

"Well,  yes,  of  course;  or  there  would  be  no  special 
fun  in  it,'  she  answered. 


44  The   Torys  Daughter. 

"  Two  may  perhaps.  I  doubt  a  whole  boat  load  per 
forming  such  a  concensuous  dream,"  said  Gray,  smiling 
now  as  near  at  one  with  them,  as  his  years  permitted. 

"  Dream,  dream,  may  we  ever  dream ; 
The  real  after  all  may  be  seeming ; 
Let  it  fade  with  the  mist  of  the  sunlit  stream, 
And  our  world  be  the  world  of  dreaming." 

he  added. 

"  O  papa  !  where  did  you  get  that  ?     It  is  pretty." 

"  Nowhere." 

"  Is  there  any  more  there  ?  " 

"Not  aline." 

"Well,  it  is  a  little  sad — so  I  don't  care." 

"  All  poetry  is  steeped  in  sadness,  tells  of  pleasures  past, 
with  regretful  memories,  when  it  does  not  cheat  with 
delusions.  Why  may  we  not  somewhere,  for  a  little 
space,  find  a  shore  where  Time  stops  ;  and  we  left  to  float 
— come  and  go,  and  not  have  the  hours  counted  against 
us,"  said  the  elder  man. 

"  But  see !  see !  papa ;  we  are  going  against  the  tide ! 
Turning  time  backward ; "  dipping  her  fingers  in  the 
passing  water,  which  rippled  between  them. 

"Yes,  but  we  must  turn  my  child ;  when  we  do  the  tide 
will  bear  us  down  all  the  faster." 

"  Oh,  you  are  pensive ;  the  sun  and  wine  of  this  won 
drous  day  have  not  yet  worked  their  charm.  We  will  not 
linger  in  the  shade  to-day,  will  we  Nita  ?  Will  we,  Mr. 
Cliffton  ?  We  will  defy  time  to-day.  The  night  shall  not 
come  till  we  will  it " — a  little  plaintively. 

"  I  never  remain  in  the  shadow  when  I  can  escape  it. 
If  I  cannot,  I  stand  still,  and  it  floats  off  over*  the  trees. 
The  sun  always  comes  chasing  after,"  the  young  oarsman 
answered,  untouched  by  the  girl's  pathos  of  voice. 


Echoes  Past  and  Present.  45 

"Let  that  be  our  gospel,  our  philosophy,  only  let  us 
drop  those  goblin  names.  The  sunshine  always  chases 
the  shadows  " — a  half  minute's  silence,  then — "  Do  you 
notice  I  call  you  Mr.  Cliffton  ?  "  she  asked  of  him. 

"  I  really  had  not  noticed  it." 

"  Well,  you  have  few  old  acquaintances  here,  and  may 
prefer  a  change,"  she  said. 

"  I  really  think  I  do  ;  "  gayly. 

"  Which  name  do  you  like  best  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know.  Do  you  think  anyone  likes  the 
sound  of  their  own  name  ?  " 

"  Or  the  look  of  their  own  face  ?  "  she  added. 

"  Well,  a  face  is  inevitable  ;  one  gets  accustomed  to 
that.  A  name  may  be  changed,"  he  answered. 

"  Yes ;  "  said  Edith,  her  eyes  falling. 

"  Time  changes  the  face — sculptures  all  manner  of 
lines  and  expressions  on  it ;  "  said  Dr.  Gray. 

"You  evaded  my  question,  sir;  "  said  Edith  chidingly 
to  the  boatman. 

"  I  try  to  wear  my  father's  name — well,  not  badly,  but 
I  think  I  fancy  my  mother's  family  name  more." 

"  And  her  first  name  ?"  she  asked. 

"  Maud." 

"  Maud  Cliffton — what  a  pretty  name !  I  know  she 
was  beautiful  and  lovely.  One's  mother  always  is, 
though." 

"  I  have  but  the  faintest  glimmer  of  a  memory  of  her," 
he  said. 

"  Shall  we  call  him  Cliffton  ?  "  said  Gray  to  Edith.  "  I 
have  a  fancy  for  that.  He  will  permit  it  for  the  little 
time." 

"Oh,  anything,  Cliffton  or  Cliff,  not  minding  the 
Mister,"  said  the  young  man — gayly. 


46  The   Tory's  Daughter. 

"O  dear!  this  dream  is  slipping  from  us.  Let  us  not 
talk  of  names.  Pretty  ones  are  poky.  Mr.  Cliffton — no 
Cliff, — tell  us  something  bright.  I  know  you  can,  some 
thing  to  make  us  laugh.  It  won't  take  much,"  she  said. 

"  I  can't  say  even  that  little  ;  "  he  replied,  laughing  in 
his  bright  way.  "  I  never  said  a  funny  thing  in  my  life. 
You  see  we  are  in  real  shadow,"  looking  up  at  the  high 
bank  above  them  that  made  the  water  black,  and  bending 
with  might  to  the  oars. 

"  Oh,  it  was  that !     How  glad  I  am  !  " 

The  boat  shot  into  a  broad  space  of  radiance  from  the 
sun,  now  nearing  the  meridian. 

"  Oh,  here  comes  the  dear  tlessed  sun  again  ! "  cried 
Edith,  lifting  her  face  up  to  it,  and  laughing  with  glad 
hearted  mirth.  In  the  world  is  there  anything  so  sweet 
and  musical  as  a  light-hearted  girl's  laugh — a  laugh 
wholly  feminine,  as  was  that  of  Edith,  gushing  from  the 
depths  of  a  virginal  heart. 

Reaching  the  sun-kissed  space,  the  boat  was  permitted 
to  slow,  and  Edith,  with  her  ungloved  hand  dashed  the 
water  in  a  fine  spray  playfully  over  the  boatman. 

"  Oh  !  "  exclaimed  the  father  in  reproof  of  the  childish 
act. 

"  I  wanted  you  should  see  him  as  I  did  yesterday.  He 
looks  best  in  water,"  she  cried  mirthfully. 

There  was  no  space  for  a  game  of  romps  between  the 
light,  gay-hearted  girl  and  boy.  Their  mood  could  find 
expression  only  in  laughter.  That  was  its  proper  form  in 
the  absence  of  action.  Thought — mind,  save  in  the  most 
transient  sparkles,  were  out  of  place,  words  of  any  mean 
ing  were  to  be  gayly  scoffed.  The  only  thing  they  could 
do  they  did.  There  could  be  no  impropriety  in  the 
presence  of  the  father,  though  the  proprieties  born  of 


EC /iocs  Past  and  Present.  47 

society  were  out  of  place,  in  the  free  wild  wood.  Men 
and  women  there  are  remitted  to  primitive  expressions  of 
thought,  feeling,  emotion.  So  these  bright  children 
laughed  as  children  do — peal  on  peal.  Whatever  Edith 
said,  they  laughed  at  as  the  wittiest,  brightest  thing  ever 
uttered.  Their  laughter  nursed  mirth,  which  broke  forth 
afresh.  Anita  went  off  spontaneously  with  them.  Dr. 
Gray  became  infected  and  finally  inspired,  and  soon 
added  his  hearty  chest  cachinations  to  the  concert  of  the 
young  people,  which  sent  its  tide  up  and  down  the  sur 
face  of  the  shining  river,  rising  and  overtopping  the 
banks,  ran  pealing  off  under  the  forest  arches  and  through 
the  glades.  Is  there  anything  which  so  makes  men  one, 
as  hearty  laughter  ? 

Left  to  itself,  the  boat  drifted  into  still  water,  under 
the  western  bank,  opposite  the  high  shelf  of  a  wooded 
cliff,  with  shallow  cave  openings  in  its  face,  which  catch 
ing  threw  back  in  weird  perfection  the  mirthful  notes, 
words  and  tones  of  the  gay  joyance. 

The  ear  of  the  Indian  girl  first  caught  the  mocking 
voice,  than  which  in  nature,  nothing  is  more  weird,  nor 
so  sad,  as  its  dying  cadence,  bringing  to  the  inner  vision 
the  idea  of  vanishing  form — melting  away  in  a  sigh. 

Cliff  took  it  almost  as  soon.  Edith  saw  them  listening 
and  soon  heard  it,  as  finally  did  her  father. 

As  it  threw  back  to  them  the  voices  of  their  mirth,  it 
became  a  provocative  to  laughter,  and  very  soon  regu- 
ated  their  vocal  manifestations  of  it,  so  as  to  secure  the 
most  effective  return.  By  concert  they  simultaneously 
and  suddenly  suspended  their  open-mouthed  notes  so 
as  to  receive  the  fullest  effect ;  again  and  again  repeated, 
till  the  impulse  and  power  of  yielding  to  it  were  ex 
hausted.  Then  words  and  short  sentences  were  ad- 


48  The   Torys  Daughter. 

dressed  to  the  hidden  mocker  of  the  cliff,  reflected  back 
faithfully,  tone,  voice  and  emphasis,  the  last  syllable  van 
ishing  seemingly  from  sight  as  from  hearing,  phantom- 
like,  with  a  sigh,  repeating  the  native  words  of  Anita, 
with,  as  was  declared,  more  fidelity  than  the  accents  of 
England. 

"  Oh,  Indian  is  its  native  tongue — as  I  live  !  "  cried 
Edith,  clapping  her  hands,  only  to  have  her  applause  re 
peated  to  her. 

"  Of  course  it  is  aboriginal,  its  native  tongue,"  assented 
Cliffton,  with  perfect  gravity. 

"  Its  native  tongue,"  came  back  to  them  ending  in  a 
sigh. 

"  Oh,  so  pathetic  !  "  exclaimed  Edith,  yielding  to  the  in 
fluence. 

" — so  pathetic,"  faintly  and  dying  away,  it  replied. 

"  Why — I  shall  cry,"  she  said,  almost  overcome. 

"  I  shall  cry,"  in  a  despairing  tone,  exaggerating  the 
sadness  of  her  accents. 

"  Let  us  go,  Cliffton,"  said  the  girl  in  a  lower  voice, 
now  really  moved. 

"  Go  Cliffton,"  very  faintly  it  said,  back  to  him. 

"  Cliff  is  going,"  said  the  youth  addressing  it  in  a  sad 
dened  voice. 

"  Cliff  is  going — "  the  last  word  in  unmistakable  sor 
row. 

"  Good-by,  Cliff,"  he  said,  his  voice  influenced  by  the 
growing  sadness. 

"  Good-by,  Cliff,"  sadder  yet  it  repeated. 

"  Till  we  hear  you  again,"  cried  Edith  cheerily,  to  dis 
pel  the  depression  resting  upon  them  all. 

"  Hear  you  again,"  gayly  repeated  the  cheered  sprite. 

Dudley  swept  the  boat  away,  and  Edith  drew  a  long 


Echoes  Past  and  Present.  49 

breath  of  relief.  "I  was  really  oppressed,"  she  said.  "  I 
am  glad  the  spell  was  dissolved,"  looking  back  at  the 
grim  cliff.  "  Poor  spirit — to  think  it  must  forever  remain 
captive  there,"  she  added. 

The  boat  gained  the  downward  drift  of  the  current,  and 
was  again  lit  up  with  the  warm  noon  sun. 

Cliffton  had  an  opportunity  to  observe  the  head  and 
features  of  Dr.  Gray.  He  had  not  reached  a  time  of  life 
when  men  study  the  heads  and  faces  of  men  for  charac 
ter,  or  signs  of  intellect.  Certainly  few  men  of  any  age 
could  do  that  in  this  instance,  with  the  face  of  his 
daughter  so  near  his.  For  the  hour  the  cloud  upon  his 
spirit  had  passed  ;  care  had  left  his  brow,  and  his  face 
and  eyes  lit  up  pleasantly.  The  head  was  fine,  the  fore 
head  high  but  narrow — a  striking,  distinguished  looking 
man,  and  he  might  be  called  handsome.  So  much  Dud 
ley  carried  away  from  the  interview,  quite  unconsciously, 
for  he  could  not  remember  thinking  of  him  at  all — indeed 
he  was  not  called  upon  to  think  during  the  little  excur 
sion.  None  of  its  experiences  were  intellectual. 

If  for  any  reason  Gray  could  have  wished  the  young 
people  should  not  meet,  or  had  regretted  their  meeting, 
that  regret  changed  apparently  to  satisfaction,  his  brood 
ing  thought  yielding  to  enjoyment  due  entirely  to  their 
inspiriting  presence,  which  if  strong  enough  to  thus  effect 
him,  must  have  been  much  more  potent  upon  each  other. 
This  was  very  apparent  to  him,  accustomed  to  study  oth 
ers.  Edith,  in  the  new  light  which  surrounded,  exhila 
rated  her,  was  never  so  interesting,  while  Dudley  had  a  fas 
cination  for  him.  He  could  but  wonder,  as  he  observed 
them.  They  seemed  like  life-long  companions,  meeting 
after  an  hour's  separation,  in  which  nothing  had  happened 
to  either  to  be  told  the  other.  There  was  no  need  to  talk 
4 


5O  The   Tory's  Daughter. 

of  their  past.  They  said  no  word  of  any  future.  The  pres 
ent  was  rich  and  ample  for  them.  They  seemed  all  suffi 
cient  for  each  other.  Never  had  the  presence  of  any 
person,  man  or  woman,  so  inspired  the  self-contained 
Edith.  She  had  never  before  met  such  a  man,  nor 
any  man  under  such  exceptional  conditions.  As  they 
now  drifted  away  from  the  mocking  river  cliff,  Gray  notic 
ed  that  the  gay,  bubble-like  spirits  of  the  two  had  effer 
vesced. 

Some  words  were  spoken  by  Edith,  having  some  pass 
ing  meaning,  Dudley  seeming  content  to  hear  them. 
Possibly  to  him  but  melodious  sounds,  beyond  which  they 
signified  little.  Dr.  Gray  thought  he  had  never  met  one 
so  entirely  unconscious  of  himself,  as  this  young  man. 
Not  in  the  least  bringing  himself  forward,  or  asserting 
himself.  The  girl's  words  really  had  very  little  meaning, 
had  no  special  relevancy,  were  not  many,  and  brokenly 
spoken,  yet  after  a  little,  as  he  thought,  they  seemed  to  be 
full  of  significance  to  Dudley,  though  they  were  not  to 
him.  The  young  man  now  appeared  to  answer  once  in  a 
while,  with  a  word,  a  tone,  a  smile,  or  a  laugh.  Clearly 
something  was  passing  between  them,  some  sort  of  con 
verse,  full  of  pith  to  them,  of  which  they  seemed  aware. 
Once  or  twice  he  tried  to  catch  the  thought,  translate  it 
to  his  own  apprehension.  Beyond  the  pleasure  of  the 
presence  of  each  to  the  other,  it  was  all  unintelligible  to 
him.  Possibly  there  was  nothing  more  between  them. 
If  there  was,  it  was  too  elusive  for  the  acute  man,  who  set 
himself  to  study  them.  Apparently  they  took  no  note  of 
time,  which  Edith  had  banished  for  the  day.  He  had 
quite  become  one  with  their  light  mood,  and  for  him  her 
decree  for  the  hour  was  effective,  and  to  himself  later  he 
seemed  to  awake  to  find  the  boat  lying  by  the  low  moss- 


EC/IOCS  Past  and  Present,  5 1 

grown  bank,  where  he  first  saw  it,  now  hours  ago.  Was 
it  all  an  unconscious  reverie  ?  The  awakening  like  com 
ing  from  light  slumber,  where  actual  and  seeming  things 
had  been  pleasantly  blended  ?  The  party  stepped  from 
the  boat  to  find  themselves  in  the  shadow  of  the  high 
western  bank,  so  often  mentioned. 

"  Ah,  what  did  I  tell  you,  my  child?"  said  Dr.  Gray, 
lifting  his  hand  to  indicate  the  lapse  of  the  hours. 

"  Oh,  the  west  has  become  east.  The  day  is  lengthen 
ing,"  with  a  laugh  that  had  lost  none  of  its  music.  "  To 
day  is  not  to  be  counted  with  the  common  days,  is  it, 
Anita?" 

"  Him  begin  new  time."  She  answered,  showing  her 
exquisite  teeth,  meaning  the  present  day,  and  not  the 
young  American,  by  her  pronoun. 

Dr.  Gray  and  the  girls  took  their  way  leisurely  through 
the  woods  to  the  main  cabin,  where  they  were  joined  by 
Dudley.  The  faithful  Peters  soon  brought  them  face  to 
face  with  a  mid-day  dinner. 

"  This  is  the  stuff  most  dreams  are  made  of,  Mr.  Cliff- 
ton;  let  us  play  we  are  hungry,"  said  Edith  gayly. 

"  Quite  too  serious  for  play  with  me,  I  fear,"  he  re 
plied,  in  his  bright  way. 

For  a  play  the  parts  were  really  well  taken,  as  were  the 
viands,  and  Peters  was  left  to  ring  down  the  curtain. 

Anita  produced  a  small,  beautiful  basket  of  native  work 
manship,  and  the  three  young  people  strolled  again  away 
in  the  surrounding  forest.  There  really  was  little  else  to 
do.  They  thought  it  was  the  charm  of  the  wood  which 
led  them  into  its  depths. 

"  What  a  paradise  of  trees !  "  cried  the  fair  girl,  paus 
ing  and  looking  round  her.  "  So  wide,  so  endless  ;  trees 
everywhere  ;  one  must  not  be  afraid  of  getting  out  of  the 


52  The  Tory's  Daughter. 

woods,  and  see  them  fade  off.  To  be  in  the  woods,  live 
in  the  woods,  in  the  heart  of  an  endless  forest ;  wake  in 
the  morning,  and  find  ourselves  there — it  was  not  a  dream  ; 
not  have  to  go  over  stumpy  fields, -over  the  wreck  and  ruin 
of  prostrate  kings,  wearying  and  disgusting  one's  self  to  get 
into  the  woods,  but  wake  and  find  one's  self  among  tall, 
healthy,  untouched  old  monarchs,  and  move  over  their  fall 
ing  crowns  and  robes,  strewing  the  fragrant  pure  earth." 
She  moved  along  while  speaking,  and  now  on  a  small  sum 
mit  paused  again.  "  Was  there  ever*such  a  wonder  ?  See, 
see,  Cliff  !  see,  Anita !  That  long  avenue,  overlaid  with 
shafts  and  pencils  of  sunbeams,  great  sheaves  of  gold  and 
soft  brown  shadows,  lying  across  it ;  gold  on  a  field  of 
brown,  pricked  with  every  hue  of  green.  Oh,  the  forest  is 
full  of  these  arched,  overhung  ways."  Looking  upward, 
following  up  the  huge,  straight  shafts,  up  and  through  the 
openings  to  the  soft  blue  beyond — "  How  high  up,  and 
far  away  the  sky  is.  These  tall  trees  help  to  measure  the 
distance,"  and  her  eyes  came  down  to  the  smiling  face  of 
Dudley,  from  which  her  own  caught  the  smile.  Won 
drous  as  were  the  trees,  the  earth,  the  sun  and  sky,  this 
almost  radiant  face  was  sure  to  catch  her  eyes,  when  they 
came  back  from  an  excursion.  Anita,  quick  to  see,  noted 
whenever  her  eyes  traced  up  the  grand  trunk  of  a  tree 
they  invariably  came  back  to  and  rested  an  instant  on  his, 
and  always  lit  up  with  a  smile,  or  broke  into  a  laugh. 
To  the  Indian  girl,  it  seemed  the  most  natural  place  in 
the  world  for  Edith's  eyes  to  land.  She  now  also  noticed 
that  when  her  sister's  eyes  flashed  upward  to  the  tinted 
and  now  torn  canopy  of  foliage,  Dudley's  eyes  invariably 
were  upon  her  face,  waiting  with  exemplary  patience  to 
receive  them,  and  seldom  waiting  long,  or  if  he  threw  a 


Echoes  Past  and  Present.  53 

glance  upward  it  was  only  when  she  called  him  to  look  up, 
and  that  he  wasted  little  time  on  trees  or  sky. 

So  they  went  sauntering  about,  the  girls  in  their  gay 
moccasins,  rustling  the  painted  leaves,  the  young  man 
with  his  light  elastic  step,  having  one  of  those  well-made, 
well-knit,  long-limbed  forms,  supple,  strong,  and  full  of 
flexile,  unconscious  grace  alike  in  action  and  repose, 
Edith  pausing  to  look  up  and  wonder  at  the  trees,  Dud 
ley  to  look  at  Edith,  and  Anita  to  look  in  ecstasy  at  the 
two,  especially  when  they  happened  to  pause  in  the  sun's 
rays.  Occasionally  she  picked  up  a  chestnut,  as  did 
Dudley. 

"  Do  you  know  the  soul  of  the  woods — their  spirits  ? 
The  forest  has  many,"  Edith  said.  "  They  are  with  you, 
possess  you  ;  you  see  them,  hear  them,  feel  their  presence. 
You  turn  for  a  better  view ;  the  forms  change  to  shadows 
or  sunbeams,  the  voices  to  wind  voices,  sighs  and  moans, 
and  like  the  dying  cadence  of  our  echo  become  the  rustle 
or  waft  of  leaves.  You  hear  their  mocking  laugh,  like 
that  of  the  loon,  and  it  turns  to  the  groan  of  a  huge  arm 
of  a  tree  creaking  on  the  body  of  another,  moved  by  the 
wind.  The  woods  are  full  of  spirits,"  she  said,  mus 
ingly. 

"  The  soul  of  wildness,"  said  Dudley. 

"  We  call  it  wild  for  want  of  a  better  word,  or  apprecia 
tion.  How  this  flavor  is  given  to  everything  the  wood 
harbors  or  hides  ;  all  of  its  own.  Trees,  plants,  leaves, 
flowers,  fruits,  all  roots,  barks,  perfumes,  all  have  the 
flavors  of  the  forest.  All  living  things  :  birds,  animals, 
insects,  all  wild — we  call  it.  It  is  in  all  their  motions, 
cries,  notes ;  all  their  ways,  all  alike  in  this — all  are  of 
their  mother,  the  woods.  Men  slay  her  children,  because 
of  this  flavor  of  theiiyflesh." 


54  The   Torys  DaugJiter. 

"  Roasted  venison  and  wild  plum  sauce  ;"  said  Dudley 
laughing.  "  Game  dinners." 

"  Yes,  roasted  venison,  and  wild  plum  sauce.  I  accept 
the  illustration.  I  never  regret  my  father's  daughter  is 
not  a  son,  only  as  I  think  how  much  easier  he  could  run 
wild  in  the  woods.  But  he  would  want  to  murder  her 
innocents." 

"  Would  you  live  with  the  natives  ?"  asked  Cliff,  glanc 
ing  at  Anita. 

"  The  spirit  of  the  woods  is  her  soul.  Its  life  her  life  ; 
its  voices  and  ways  are  hers.  She  has  its  subtle,  elusive 
flavor.  They  are  very  exquisite  in  her.  Of  course  you 
like  them  in  her — very  much.  But  the  Indian  embodies 
the  ravin  of  the  woods,  as  you  find  it  in  wolves ;  all  the 
predaceous,  all  the  hunters,  warriors,  are  alike.  They  are 
all  taught  by  the  same  hand  and  voice — are  all  alike, 
cruel — we  call  it." 

"Do  you  suppose  those  of  the  highest  civilization  are 
most  appreciative  of  this  elusive  spirit  of  the  woods,  as 
you  call  it  ?  " 

"  Well,  yes,  perhaps  so.  He,  the  cultured,  sees  it,  feels 
it,  appreciates  it,  as  no  barbarian  can.  He  knows  all 
the  contrasts.  An  Indian  is  at  the  head  of  the  preda 
ceous  children  of  the  woods,  developed  only  in  that  line. 
I  know  one — a  family,  Anita  is  of  it,  on  a  more  elevated 
plain.  To  the  average  Indian,  all  things  are  alike.  He 
does  not  appreciate  the  difference.  He  regards  the 
wonders  of  art  with  the  same  indifference  that  he  sees  a 
tree,  a  rock — all  are  alike  to  him.  Poor,  dear  child," 
turning  to  Anita.  "  She  has  not  the  faintest  idea  of  the 
charm,  the  flavor  of  her  wildness,  so  exquisite  in  her  rich 
and  really  gifted  nature.  Oh,  let  us  get  away  from  this  ! 
we  are  in  deep  shadow  ;  get  into  the  sunshine,  into  our 


Echoes  Past  and  Present.  55 

bright  dream  land.  We  are  still  in  the  woods,"  she  cried, 
catching  inspiration  from  the  eyes  so  near  hers,  and 
laughing  in  her  old  way  of  the  morning. 

"  Why  do  you  call  the  forest  woods  instead  of  wood  or 
forest  ? " 

"Well,  in  childhood,  I  called  small  bodies  of  trees 
woods,  as  they  were.  I  liked  that  name,  that  form,  the 
best.  To  me  it  meant  more.  Woods, — the  woods — 
endless  hills,  wild,  lovely  slopes  with  streams,  great,  far- 
reaching  plains,  covered  with  lovely  trees,  like  these." 
Then  catching  the  laughing  expression  of  his  eyes  and 
face  :  "  Do  you  always  laugh  ?  "  her  face  lighting  up 
under  his  eyes. 

"  Well,  when  I  am  not  laughing,  I  am  ready  to,  I  fancy. 
I  really  never  thought  of  it  before." 

"  Yes,  so  I  see,  and  I  like  it." 

"  I  think  you  have  a  charming  aptitude  for  musical 
laughter,"  he  said  in  reply. 

Spontaneously  these  things  were  said,  with  no  thought 
of  compliment,  nor  did  either  feel  complimented. 

Dudley  meantime  had  purposely  conducted  the  girls  to 
a  south-westerly  slope  of  a  noble  chestnut  ridge,  where 
the  declining  sun  sent  his  now  yellow  rays  with  warm 
effulgence,  which  lay  like  a  gilding  on  everything  it 
touched.  Here  the  great,  newly-coined  chestnuts,  in 
their  satin  coats,  were  found  in  profusion.  A  few  min 
utes'  attention  to  the  nominal  purpose  of  their  ramble 
filled  Anita's  basket,  and  the  pocket  room  of  the  party. 

The  sun  was  withdrawing  his  rays,  and  the  forest  trees 
and  colors  were  growing  cold.  Dudley  now  turned  their 
footsteps  toward  the  river.  Edith  was  surprised  when  he 
told  her  the  camp  was  a  full  third  of  a  mile  distant. 

Dudley  spent  the  evening  with   the  Grays.     Probably 


56  TJic   Torys  Daughter. 

in  the  long  and  very  animated  conversation  between  the 
two  gentlemen,  to  which  Edith  was  content  to  be  a  lis 
tener,  the  elder  had  no  purpose  to  draw  out  the  younger, 
yet  the  extent  and  variety  of  topics  he  dwelt  upon  or 
touched,  served  admirably  to  test  the  reach  and  versatil 
ity  of  the  young  man's  studies,  which  proved  to  be 
respectable,  while  his  reading  of  the  English  classics  was 
exceptional.  His  remarks  upon  men  and  current  events 
showed  him  a  man  of  action,  with  a  very  quick  mind,  in 
ventive  and  fertile.  To  Edith  the  hours  passed  with 
something  more  than  pleasure.  She  had  rarely  seen  and 
heard  her  father  at  better  advantage.  The  ready  and 
suggestive  mind  of  the  youth,  fresh  and  original,  was  very 
inspiriting  to  him.  His  face  was  animated,  while  his 
mind  fully  awake,  worked  with  force  and  vigor.  Contem 
plative,  reflective,  he  was  something  of  a  thinker,  and  if 
he  produced  no  things  new,  he  put  old  things  in  new 
lights.  She  regretted  to  have  this  young  man  go — return 
to  his  solitary  camp.  In  their  room  after  his  departure, 
she  stood  with  her  arm  round  her  sister's  waist,  her  cheek 
by  hers  as  together  they  looked  out  of  the  small  window, 
and  caught  the  glow  of  his  re-kindled  camp  fire.  She 
said  nothing,  and  the  Indian  girl  only  speculated  of  her 
thoughts.  To  her  the  last  twenty-four  hours  had  made  a 
revelation  of  the  unsuspected  nature  and  character  of  her 
fair  sister.  Bright-spirited,  light-hearted,  she  had  uni 
formly  been  grave,  reserved  to  others,  as  if  dwelling 
apart.  A  cold,  beautiful  white  vase,  with  scarcely  per 
ceptible  characters  traced  upon  it,  save  in  the  most  deli 
cate  lines,  seemingly  indicating  that  it  was  consecrated 
and  only  to  be  used  in  the  worship  and  service  of  the 
gods.  It  had  suddenly  lit  up  from  within,  bringing  out 
the  loveliest  colors,  with  warmth  and  unsuspected  beauty 


Echoes  Past  and  Present.  57 

The  scarcely  perceptible  characters  were  in  relief,  reveal 
ing  the  strength  and  excellence  of  their  design.  Not  in 
this  form  did  the  thought  of  the  Indian  flow,  nor  did  she 
give  it  form  to  herself.  It  was  more  impression  and  feel 
ing  than  thought.  She  felt  that  her  sister  was  waking  to 
a  new  life. 

The  following  day,  like  its  predecessors,  was  rich  with 
sun,  painted  leaves  and  fruity  aroma.  The  young  folk 
made  it  an  idyl,  all  too  short,  though  they  permitted  the 
sun  to  get  a  little  the  start  of  them.  As  soon  as  he  had 
the  wood  well  alight  they  were  there.  The  river  excur 
sion  was  to  the  lake,  when  Dr.  Gray  was  of  the  party, 
now  well  restored.  For  the  rest  they  were  left  to  them 
selves,  following  the  suggestions  of  Edith.  The  doctor 
saw  that  they  two  were  in  spirits  less  exuberant  than  on 
the  day  before.  Their  intercourse  had  the  frank  unre 
serve  of  two  half-grown  children,  between  whom  an  inti 
macy  might  ripen  in  an  hour.  Theirs  seemed  as  inno 
cent  and  unconscious.  It  would  end  with  the  day,  or  at 
farthest  the  next  morning.  The  frankness  with  which 
the  girl  met  the  youth's  eyes,  without  increase  of  color,  or 
a  coy  turning  from  them,  was  to  him,  if  he  thought  at  all 
of  it,  proof  of  its  harmlessness.  Truth  to  say,  he  was 
preoccupied,  and  gave  up  the  day  to  the  consideration  of 
grave  and  perplexing  matters,  to  which,  as  we  have  seen, 
this  meeting  brought  new  and  unexpected  lights.  His 
first  inclination  was  to  turn  back  from  his  mission,  accept 
ing  this  incident  as  a  sign  from  heaven  that  it  was  dis 
pleasing  to  God.  This  he  pondered  prayerfully,  in  the 
spirit  of  his  puritan  ancestors.  His  impressions  instead 
of  ripening  to  convictions,  faded,  and  the  will  of  the  Most 
High  was  still  to  be  groped  for,  waited  for.  His  original 
purpose  would  for  the  time  remain. 


58  The  Tory's  Daughter. 

Home  and  his  guide  were  expected,  certainly  by  the 
close  of  the  day.  Home  came,  and  on  his  arrival  the 
Englishman  thought  he  surprised  Edith  and  Dudley  at 
the  camp  by  the  spring.  He  made  his  presence  known 
by  a  loud  guffaw  of  laughter,  at  what  he  supposed  must 
be  their  confusion,  on  being  thus  taken.  To  Edith  his 
mirth  seemed  forced  and  not  shared  by  his  face.  It  half 
frightened  the  Indian  girl,  whom  he  had  not  seen  and 
whose  appearance  changed  for  him  the  aspect  of  things, 
and  he  went  forward  to  meet  them  with  a  really  smiling 
face. 

"  Where  did  you  get  that  horrid  laugh  ?  "  were  Edith's 
first  words  to  him,  frankly  extending  her  hand  which  he 
took  with  a  pleased  manner. 

"  Caught  it  on  that  horrid  Cuy-hoggy — is  that  the  right 
name,  Dudley  ?  "  turning  to  the  young  man  pleasantly. 

"  It  is  very  Englishy,"  answered  Dudley  smiling. 

"  Well,  you  take  that  laugh  right  straight  back  where 
you  got  it  and  leave  it  there  ;  I  don't  like  it,"  said  the  girl. 

"  I  presume  you  would  like  to  have  me,"  he  answered. 

In  reply  to  Dudley,  who  asked  for  Carter,  Home  said, 
he  accompanied  by  two  young  lads,  were  with  the  horses, 
secured  for  the  journey  west.  They  followed  the  trail  to 
a  ford  three  or  four  miles  above.  Hp  would  find  them 
on  the  high  ground ;  when  with  a  word,  the  young  man 
hurried  away  to  look  after  their  disposition  for  the  night. 

"  I  expect  you'd  like  to  have  me  go  back,"  repeated  the 
still  not  wholly  placated  Englishman. 

"  That  is  very  Englishy  also,  as  Cliff  would  say,"  she  re 
plied. 

"  Ah  !  so  he  is  promoted  to  Cliff  ? "  sarcastically. 

"  When  he  is  not  Dud,"  gayly,  turning  toward  the 
cabin. 


Echoes  Past  and  Present.  59 

"You  are  not  a  bit  glad  to  have  me  back;"  lugubri 
ously. 

"  You  have'nt  eaten  since  you  left  us,"  laughing.  "  Not 
glad  to  have  you  back  ?  Well,  let  me  see.  Yes — no. 
You  see,  it  is  about  balanced  ; "  laughing  again  gleefully. 
"  O  Captain  Home  !  " 

"  The  no  is  the  last,  and  more  emphatic,  I  do  believe;  " 
he  said,  his  face  taking  light  from  hers  however. 

"  It  should  have  been  plain  no,  to  such  an  insinuation. 
You  see,  there  never  were  two  such  days  as  these — were 
there,  Nita?  where  are  you?"  she  was  moving  a  little 
apart,  with  the  fine  instinct  of  a  true  woman. 

"  Oh,  your  unsupported  word  will  do  for  that,"  was  his 
dry  assent. 

"  Well,  it  is  all  over.  You've  come  back  with  horses, 
and  we  shall  leave  this  lovely  place  in  the  morning,"  she 
added  pensively. 

"  Well,  don't  despair.  I  had  to  agree  to  take  him — 
this  Cliff,  when  he  isn't  Dud,  or  whatever  his  name  is — 
with  us,  if  he'll  go,"  a  little  sharply. 

"  Oh,  goody  good  !  Do  you  hear,  Anita  ?  The  yourjg 
chief  is  going  with  us  ;  "  she  cried  a  little  mockingly. 

"  If  he  will ;  "  added  Home,  a  trifle  disgusted. 

"  Of  course  he  will,  what  else  did  we  oome  here  for,  I'd 
like  to  know  ?  " 

"  Sure  enough  !  "  growled  the  Briton. 

"  But  why  does  he  have  to  go  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  It  had  to  be  him  or  this  old  sccoit.  Dudley  is  the 
least  dangerous." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ? "  laughing  gayly. 

"  Well,  we  are  going  into  the  enemy's  country — to  them. 
Some  one  must  see  to  the  return  of  the  horses.  I  think 


60  The  Tory's  Daughter. 

the  old  hunter  don't  care  to  go  among  the  Wyandots, 
any  way." 

"  Will  Mr.  Dudley  be  safe  ?  "  a  little  anxiously. 

"  Safe  enough  from  the  Indians  ; "  laughing  in  a  mean 
ing  way. 

"  Oh  !  "  prolonged,  and  standing  silent  an  instant.  "  Oh, 
I  never  thought  of  that ;  "  her  face  coloring,  which  the 
shadow  of  coming  night  hid  from  the  Englishman's 
eyes. 

In  an  interview  later  it  was  arranged  that  Dudley  should 
accompany  the  party  to  the  Huron.  All  the  preparations 
were  made  for  an  early  start  the  next  morning. 

Among  the  things  mentioned  by  Home  as  picked  up  at 
Cleveland,  he  was  told  that  Dudley  was  regarded  as  a 
very  promising  officer,  and  had  been  stationed  there — a 
wretched  little  place,  he  called  it.  That  the  young  man 
had  been  educated  at  the  Military  School,  of  which  he  had 
never  before  heard.  His  manner  and  words  did  not 
greatly  flatter  the  Americans. 

Gray  said  a  school  had  been  established  on  the  Hudson 
he  thought  nine  or  ten  years,  by  the  American  Con 
gress. 

Edith  warned  the  Englishman  that  she  was  of  full 
American  blood. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  QUEEN'S  GIFT. 

L,  look  out!  ole  feller;"  were  the  old 
hunter's  parting  words  to  Dudley.  He  con 
ducted  the  party  by  a  short  cut  to  the  trail  west.  When 
reached,  he  stepped  aside  for  it  to  pass  into  the  not 
very  plain  track.  The  young  man  called  the  words 
gayly  back  to  him,  as  did  Edith,  with  the  hope  of  seeing 
him  again.  Dr.  Gray  and  Home  had  pleasant  words  for 
him,  and  Anita  asked  him  specially  to  care  for  the  young 
chief  thereafter,  with  a  glance  at  Edith. 

To  Gray  was  assigned  the  best  horse.  Edith's,  the 
only  one  that  had  ever  worn  a  lady's  saddle,  was  a  very 
spirited  mare,  a  little  wayward.  The  girl  was  a  fairly  good 
horsewoman,  absolutely  fearless,  and  looked  well  in  the 
saddle.  Anita,  mounted  in  the  fashion  of  her  race,  was 
perfect  mistress  of  herself  and  horse.  Master  would  per 
haps  be  the  better  word,  as  she  used  two  stirrups.  Home 
was  an  indifferent  horseman,  unused  to  mounted  parties 
in  the  woods  and  rough  ways,  where  care  of  himself  was 
all  he  could  achieve.  From  leader  or  guide,  Dudley  at 
once  became  the  commander  of  the  party.  He  soon 
yielded  his  horse  to  carry  a  portion  of  the  baggage,  a 
necessity,  unless  it  was  abandoned.  Hardy  and  lithe, 
his  short  heavy  rifle  in  hand,  to  march  in  advance  of  the 

61 


62  The   Torys  Daughter. 

horsemen,  was  no  tax  upon  his  travelling  power.  The 
three  men  of  Home  were  also  on  foot,  as  were  the  young 
men  sent  to  care  for  the  horses. 

Edith's  mare  was  restive  and  over  spirited,  with  ideas  of 
her  own  at  times  differing  from  her  rider,  and  there  were 
several  encounters,  in  one  of  which,  the  ready  aid  of  the 
alert  Dudley  saved  her  from  a  fall.  To  render  this 
in  time  required  a  feat  of  agility  and  strength  on  his 
part,  not  lost  on  the  appreciative  young  lady  or  her 
thoroughly  alarmed  father.  It  is  possible  Home  saw  less 
merit  in  it. 

The  hope  was  to  reach  the  Huron  that  evening.  There 
was  a  delay  in  starting,  several  stops  and  hindrances  on 
the  way,  and  the  Vermillion  was  not  reached  till  mid- 
afternoon.  The  late  rains  had  effaced  the  ford.  Obvi 
ously  means  must  be  found  for  passing  it.  The  horses 
could  be  made  to  take  water  and  swim.  The  ladies  and 
baggage  must  be  taken  over  by  other  means.  The  mis 
hap  of  Black  river  was  fresh  in  their  memories. 

Dudley  and  the  young  men  gained  the  bank  in  advance 
of  the  party.  At  a  glance  he  saw  the  condition  of  the 
stream  and  grasped  the  means  of  its  passage.  On  the 
approach  of  Home,  he  briefly  stated  what  he  had  decided 
upon,  the  preliminaries  of  which  the  stalwart  ready 
handed  youths,  armed  with  the  axes  of  Gray's  party,  were 
already  about.  The  sensible  Home  called  up  his  own 
men  and  told  them  to  aid,  really  placing  them  under 
Dudley's  orders.  His  directions  were  few  and  easily 
understood,  and  he  put  his  own  skilled  hands  and  ready 
strength  to  forward  his  design. 

"He  works  like  an  engineer,"  said  Dr.  Gray  much  in 
terested. 

"And  gives  orders  like  an  officer  ;  "  said  the  admiring 
Edith. 


The  Queen  s  Gift.  63 

"  He  is  both,  as  I  told  you,"  said  Home.  "  I  learned 
at  Cleveland  that  he  was  a  captain  in  their  2d  Cavalry 
or  had  served  in  it,  and  that  he  planned  the  slight  works 
there.  He  certainly  knows  how  to  take  a  party  across  a 
river.  I  suppose  their  few  officers  learn  all  arms." 

"  And  how  to  handle  horses  ; "  added  Gray.  '  I  saw 
him  picketing  these  last  night,  on  the  hill." 

"  Him  a  chief  !  "  was  the  sententious  comment  of  the 
Indian  girl. 

"  That  was  her  declaration  when  she  saw  him  first," 
said  Edith. 

Ere  an  hour  the  entire  party,  horses  and  impedimenta, 
were  on  the  west  bank,  dry  and  in  good  order. 

To  reach  the  Huron  that  day  was  out  of  the  question. 
Dudley's  dispositions  for  the  night  were  soon  made.  His 
consultation  with  Home  was  perfunctory  merely. 

"  A  purely  military  encampment  in  an  enemy's  country, 
with  our  rear  protected  by  a  river,  as  in  no  event  can  we 
retreat,"  was  Home's  comment  to  Dr.  Gray.  "  Of  course 
it  is  well  enough  to  humor  him,"  he  added. 

In  a  way  thrown  into  a  novel  position,  with  unexpected 
emergencies  arising,  Home  had  been  at  disadvantage, 
ever  since  the  landing  at  the  Black  river.  To-day  was 
for  him  more  unfortunate  than  its  predecessors.  The 
place  of  leader  which  was  his,  was  usurped  by  another. 
Another  had  taken  his  place  at  Edith's  side.  He  had 
ceased  to  command  his  own  men,  in  her  presence.  She, 
who  had  always  evaded  the  attentions  of  himself,  of  all 
gentlemen,  evidently  received  them  from  this  American 
with  pleasure.  Seemed  in  no  way  to  regret  the  occasions 
which  might  excuse  them.  It  was  his  arms  that  received 
her,  when  unseated  from  her  horse,  and  restored  her. 
Home  was  himself  much  nearer  her  when  the  trouble 


64  The   Tory's  Daughter. 

with  the  restive  mare  began,  but  this  Dudley  rushed  in, 
caught  the  flying  rein,  the  falling  form.  He  reached  the 
west  side  of  the  Vermillion  in  a  very  ungracious  mood. 
Indeed,  so  far  off  his  balance  as  to  have  words  with  the 
young  lady  herself.  The  opportunity  was  an  excursion 
from  the  one  tent  pitched,  down  to  the  river,  in  the 
twilight,  where  he  managed  to  detain  her  alone.  He  be 
gan  by  saying — "  I  really  feel  as  if  I  was  freed  from  my 
parole"  This  was  in  a  tone  of  affected  bandinage. 

It  did  not  impose  on  her.  "  Freed  from  your  parole  ? 
Very  well.  What  would  you  have  ?  " 

"  Well,  it  seems  to  me  if  I  am  not  to  speak  of  a  certain 
matter — and  I  can  think  of  nothing  else  ;  do  you  really 
feel  that  you  should  be — be — well — ,  so  approachable  to 
this  Dudley  Cliffton — Cliff,  as  you  call  him — on  a  very 
short  acquaintance  ?  "  • 

"  What  can  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Even  Anita  notices  it,  and  is  on  the  grin  half  the 
time." 

"  Approachable  !  Who  are  you,  that  I  am  to  answer  to 
your  absurd  words  ?  " 

"A  man  you  and  your  father  have  authorized  to 
approach  you  as  a  suitor." 

"  You  find  me  approachable — do  you  ?  "  laughing  gayly. 

"  Why  should  I  not  be  approachable  to  this  young 
man,  if  I  choose  ?  Do  you  forget  how  we  met  ?  We, 
my  father  and  myself,  were  thrown  on  him  for  help,  for 
service — attentions  you  were  privileged  to  render,  and 
which  we  should  with  gratitude  accept  from  any  man." 

"  You  assuredly  have  never  shown  the  same  pleasure 
for  attentions  from  any  other" — still  trying  to  laugh. 

"  She  would  be  no  woman  who  would  not  accept  atten 
tions  from  him  with  a  lively  pleasure.  I  shall  not  in  the 


The  Queen  s  Gift.  65 

least  regret  any  occasion  in  the  future  for  his  attentions. 
He  renders  them  as  my  due,  without  a  flourish,  or  as  ex 
pecting — reward."  Then  her  face  grew  grave,  a  little 
severe.  "  Now  I  will  not  be  questioned.  You  were — 
had  some  recognition  as  a  suitor.  You  promised  me  on 
the  honor  of  a  man,  if  permitted  to  be  of  this  mission,  not 
to  remind  me  of  your  position.  Well,  you  feel  released 
from  your  word.  What  will  you  have  ?  I  am  quite  ready 
at  this  instant  to  give  you  a  final  answer." 

"  Edith  !  Miss  Grayson  !  I  protest !  I  implore  !  " 
with  energy  throwing  up  his  hands  in  alarm.  "  I — I — 
well,  I  was  not  serious." 

"  Well,  I  am.  I  will  not  permit  you  to  treat  me  other 
wise  than  with  the  utmost  sincerity — and  as  the  freest  of 
women." 

"  If— If  I  loved—" 

"  Beware !  "  interrupting  him  with  added  severity  of 
manner. 

"  You  will  at  least  consider  the  unusual,  the  unexpected 
things  which  in  a  way  have  rendered  me  powerless,"  he 
ventured  to  suggest,  quite  reduced. 

"  It  is  the  unexpected  things  which  try — test  a  man — as 
they  do  a  woman.  I  may  deplore,  excuse,  but  really  it  is 
not  my  fault  if  things  arise  not  of  my  invoking,  to  which 
you  may  at  the  instant,  have  been  unequal,  nor  withhold 
my  gratitude,  my  admiration,  from  another  more  fort 
unate." 

"  You  seriously  pronounce  against  me." 

"  I  do  not.     I  have  thought  well  of  you,  how  well   is 

shown  by  your  being  able  to  remind  me  of  your  position 

toward  me  at  home.     I  thought  you  brave,  manly,  loyal, 

generous.     I  hope  you  will  permit  me   to  so  regard  you 

S 


66  The   Torys  Daughter. 

ever.  We  must  be  true  to  our  common  service,  whatever 
happens,"  she  added. 

"  I  have  been  gravely  in  fault.  I  am  grateful  for  your 
generous  words.  I  will  merit  them."  This  was  spoken 
in  a  very  manly  way. 

"  I  do  believe  you  will."  She  said  in  her  fine  manner, 
frankly  extending  her  hand. 

"  Thanks,  thanks  !  "  receiving  it  effusively,  and  bend 
ing  to  kiss  it,  when  it  was  withdrawn,  ere  his  lips  paid  full 
homage. 

He  was  much  elated,  and  could  not  wholly  retain  his 
satisfaction  within  the  safe  limits  of  silence.  "  One 
thing  I've  gained — I  never  before  knew  you  had  so  high 
an  estimate  of  me,"  he  said. 

"  That  is  what  I  did  think,"  coldly.  "  What  I  may 
think  hereafter,  will  depend  wholly  on  yourself."  This 
quite  cancelled  her  words. 

The  party  moved  early  the  next  morning.  The  road 
struck  the  Huron  some  miles  above  the  deserted  Morav 
ian  village,  which  the  travellers  reached  in  mid-afternoon. 
The  little  town  stood  on  the  eastern  bank  of  the  river, 
consisting  of  eight  or  ten  small  hut-like  structures,  built 
of  small  trunks  of  the  abundant  trees,  wattled,  as  their 
mode  was.  A  few  acres  had  been  cleared,  now  overgrown 
by  the  reconquering  forest.  The  Moravians  abandoned 
the  place  five  or  six  years  before  the  arrival  of  the  Cana 
dian  embassy.  On  the  side  opposite  was  a  temporary 
camp  of  Wyandots,  Senecas,  and  their  friends,  from  the 
Sandusky,  some  of  whom  were  permanent  residents,  as 
sembled  to  meet  the  English  emissaries.  After  the  man 
ner  of  Indians,  they  had  placed  three  or  four  of  the 
cabins  in  condition  to  receive  their  intended  occupants, 
whose  arrival  was  expected  from  the  lake,  where  a  look- 


The  Queens  Gift.  67 

out  had  been  kept  for  four  or  five  days.  Save  a  few 
women,  children,  and  warriors  of  small  note,  Dr.  Gray 
found  nobody  to  receive  him.  The  warriors  discharged 
their  guns,  and  very  soon  the  seemingly  deserted  Huron 
bore  the  forest  sovereigns  over  to  meet  the  agent  of  the 
Prince  Regent.  George  III.  was  then  in  eclipse. 

To  the  travellers,  the  vicissitudes  of  the  day's  journey 
were  duplicates  of  the  day  before.  Dr.  Gray  was  an  ad 
venturous  man,  and  saw  the  approaching  end  of  the  ill- 
starred  expedition  with  satisfaction.  Home  set  forward 
with  high  spirits.  He  had  many  reasons  for  satisfaction. 
This  was  the  last  day  of  an  intruding  presence,  more 
than  distasteful  to  him.  His  spirits  effervesced  by  the 
way,  and  he  reached  the  lovely  Huron,  with  lowering 
brow.  More  than  one  sinister  glance  had  been  cast  from 
under  it  at  the  youth,  who  maintained  his  position  at  the 
head  of  the  party,  when  not  at  Edith's  bridle  rein. 

When  the  blue  dimpling  Huron  met  their  sight,  Home 
saw  these  two  turn  their  eyes  to  each  other,  a  way  of 
theirs  as  he  had  observed,  and  now  as  he  was  certain  with 
regret.  This  was  the  end  for  them.  Their  countenances 
fell — he  thought,  as  the  folk  of  that  day  would  say.  The 
young  lady  did  not  turn  her  eyes  to  him — never  had  that 
way  with  him.  His  heart,  though  near  its  hour  of  relief, 
was  full  of  bitterness,  and  in  a  mood  to  entertain  black 
thoughts  and  unpleasant  guests. 

The  last  two  or  three  miles  down  the  river  were  passed 
in  silence.  The  English  officer  specially  noted,  while 
Dudley  was  alert  and  cheerful,  his  words  were  few,  his 
light  laugh  which  he  had  come  to  hate,  was  no  longer 
heard  ;  while  Edith  was  grave  and  silent,  not  in  her  old 
lofty  way,  a  being  apart,  but  drooping  and  sad,  as  a 
woman  might  be. 


68  The   Torys  Daughter. 

The  party  alighted  in  front  of  the  principal  building  in 
silence.  Anita  springing  from  her  horse,  as  would  a  gay 
and  gallant  cavalier,  went  to  the  side  of  Edith.  Dr. 
Gray's  horse  had  taken  sudden  fright,  and  Dudley  felt 
obliged  to  turn  his  attention  to  him. 

The  Indian  women  approached  the  young  ladies  with 
respectful  wonder  and  curiosity.  Anita  addressed  them 
in  their  own  language.  They  were  greatly  pleased  ;  the 
oldest  answered  her,  then  they  gathered  about  the  two 
girls,  and  led  them  to  a  small  building  connected  with  the 
larger,  which  they  had  decorated  and  set  apart  for  their 
special  use. 

Dudley's  first  care  was  for  the  two  young  men  and  the 
horses  for  the  night.  This  accomplished,  he  turned  to 
the  main  building,  in  front  of  which  he  now  found  twenty 
or  thirty  fine  athletic  warriors,  standing  about  a  group  of 
th^ee  or  four  chiefs,  of  the  highest  rank,  with  whom  Dr. 
Gray  and  Home,  with  the  aid  of  an  interpreter,  were  in 
conversation.  Gray  turned,  met  and  led  Dudley  forward, 
and  presented  him  to  the  famous  Round-head,  a  fine- 
looking  old  chief,  in  festive  array,  and  a  reputed  friend  of 
the  Americans. 

"  Me  Round-head,"  said  the  old  barbarian,  with  dignity. 
"  Wyandots  grandfathers  of  the  Nations  ;  "  waving  his 
hand  with  a  comprehensive  sweep  westward.  Dudley 
knew  that  to  his  tribe  had  been  committed  the  great  belt 
of  the  Indian  league,  dissolved  by  Wayne  at  the  Battle  of 
the  Fallen  Timber.  He  remembered  the  suspicions  of 
Carter,  and  he  noted  the  peaceful  aspect  of  the  natives 
before  him.  He  knew  he  was  expected  to  say  something 
in  reply  to  the  chief. 

"  My  people  have  all  heard  of  Round-head,"   he  said 


The  Queen  s  Gift.  69 

gravely.  "  They  respect  him  in  war.  They  are  glad  .to 
be  the  friends  of  the  Wyandots." 

The  young  man's  person  and  bearing  evidently  were 
much  in  his  favor,  with  men  accustomed  to  note  and  read 
quickly  and  accurately  all  that  meets  the  senses. 

His  words,  rendered  by  the  half-blood,  were  received 
with  satisfaction. 

"  My  son  speaks  good  words,"  answered  the  chief  gra 
ciously.  He  was  then  presented  to  Walk-in-the- Water,  a 
saturnine,  ill-favored  chief,  of  whom  he  had  also  heard,  and 
with  whom  he  also  exchanged  compliments.  He  was  less 
favorably  impressed  by  him.  He  had  once  seen  Black- 
Hoof,  the  most  famous  of  the  Wyandots.  His  quick 
glance  discovered  his  absence.  He  noted,  however,  the 
presence  of  one  who  held  himself  aloof — king-born,  if 
men  ever  are,  not  taller  than  were  three  or  four  before 
him,  to  whom  his  glances  would  stray  before  formally 
presented  to  him.  He  now  came  a  step  forward,  and  Dr. 
Gray,  taking  the  youth  by  the  hand,  conducted  him  to  the 
stranger,  and  left  them  to  stand  five  or  six  seconds  con 
fronting  each  other.  Lighter  of  complexion  than  the 
northern  natives,  light,  graceful,  yet  powerfully  made,  a 
noble  head,  finely  featured,  aquiline,  carriage  erect,  dig 
nified,  wearing  the  simple  deerskin  hunting  shirt,  leggins 
and  moccasins,  red  cap  and  eagle's  feather,  without  other 
ornament  or  a  tint  of  paint,  he  stood  the  finest  specimen 
of  native  manhood  the  American  had  ever  seen. 

"  The  Shawanoe,"  said  Dr.  Gray,  naming  the  native 
gentleman  ;  such  he  certainly  was  ;  and  turning  to  the 
youth,  "  the  Americans  call  him  Cliffton.  Shawanoe 
has  been  told  what  his  brother  owes  him,"  he  added. 

"  My  English  father's  friend  is  very  welcome,"  he  said 
with  natural  grace,  in  a  voice  singularly  musical. 


70  The   Tory's  Daughter. 

"  The  Great  Spirit  made  Shawanoe  a  chief,"  said  Dud 
ley,  impressively.  "  He  has  looked  on  many  things.  His 
enemies  have  never  seen  his  back."  He  thought  he  was 
of  one  of  the  fine  South-western  strains  of  men. 

When  these  words  were  rendered,  many  tokens  and 
signs  of  assent  and  pleasure  were  given  by  the  Indians. 

"The  braves  will  follow  the  young  chief.  Shawanoe 
trusts  his  young  brother,"  was  the  reply.  The  chief  gave 
him  his  hand,  followed  by  the  other  chiefs  and  warriors 
present. 

"  Well,  by  Jove,  my  boy,"  said  Home  in  recovered 
spirits.  "  You've  exchanged  speeches  with  the  natives 
before.  That  speech  to  the  Shawnee  took  them." 

"  The  one  to  Round-head  was  more  politic,"  added  Dr. 
Gray. 

"  I  was  out  with  a  mission  to  the  Creeks  and  Cherokees 
last  season  ;  "  said  Dudley,  "  and  heard  a  good  deal  of 
Indian  speech  making.  One  catches  the  phrases  easily. 
Who  is  this  Shawnee,  I  wonder  ?  " 

"  Never  saw  him  before  ;  "  said  Home. 

"  I  have  heard  of  him,"  said  Gray  evasively. 

"  He  must  be  from  the  South-west.  He  looks  like  the 
fine  men  of  that  region.  He  is  lighter,  with  the  bear 
ing  of  a  prince." 

"  He  is  Shawnee  or  Shawanoese,  and  goes  by  the 
name  of  his  nation,  I  believe,"  said  Gray. 

"Well,  he  came  from  the  South  then — or  the  tribe  did, 
I  am  sure,"  said  Dudley.  "  They  are  on  our  Sciota  I 
believe  now." 

"  Maybe,"  said  Gray.  "  He  has  a  sister  at  Browns- 
town  or  Detroit.  Edith  knows  her  well.  Anita  is  the 
sole  child  of  an  elder  brother,  an  Indian  hero."  He 


The  Queens  Gift.  71 

spoke  hesitatingly,  as  if  uncertain  of  his  data,  or  the  ex 
pediency  of  giving  it. 

Dudley  went  out  in  a  thoughtful  mood.  "  What  does 
it  mean  ?  The  Moravian  Mission  was  their  pretence  to 
impose  on  him.  This  was  a  mission  from  the  English 
government  of  Canada.  It  had  a  special  purpose.  These 
men  had  asked  him  nothing  of  himself.  They  might  feel 
called  to  say  something  of  themselves.  The  Shawanoe 
was  a  man  of  the  greatest  importance.  It  was  a  thing  of 
note  and  report,"  were  his  mental  reflections. 

Edith  was  not  at  supper,  nor  was  the  Indian  girl. 
Cliff  did  not  inquire  why.  He  ventured,  however,  to  hope 
she  was  not  overcome  by  her  journey,  and  heard  from 
her  father  that  she  was  much  fatigued.  The  young  man 
remembered  that  she  took  her  way  from  her  horse  to  the 
group  of  women,  without  a  look  or  word  to  him.  That 
could  not  be  her  leave  taking,  yet  why  not  ?  It  would  be 
characteristic  of  this  strange  adventure.  The  manner  of 
the  father  was  now  cold  and  constrained.  Nothing  was 
said  of  Cliffton's  return.  He  was  there  voluntarily,  purely 
to  oblige  these  strangers,  was  his  own  master,  would  go 
when  he  pleased.  He  would  like  to  see  a  little  more  of 
this  mission.  He  wanted  very  much  to  see  Edith ;  yet  to 
what  purpose  ?  why  should  he  care  ?  In  all  human  proba 
bility  they  would  never  meet  again.  He  felt  that  this 
would  be  a  great  misfortune. 

He  went  out  to  find  young  Carter  and  his  companion 
uneasy  in  their  quarters.  They  fancied  something  sinis 
ter  was  hovering  about.  The  presence  of  the  Indians 
accounted  for  this.  He  made  a  little  scout  around,  and 
then  returned  in  good  spirits.  He  would  pass  the  night 
near  them.  They  had  a  borderer's  dislike  and  suspicion 


72  The  Torys  Daughter. 

of  Indians,  and  knew  of  the  old  hunter's  suspicions  of  the 
Canadians. 

On  his  final  outing  Dudley  found  the  night  chilly.  He 
made  his  way  towards  the  river  which  was  silent,  and 
deserted.  'From  the  high  ground,  he  saw  the  Indian 
camp  fires  ;  and  heard  occasional  sounds,  nothing  unu 
sual.  While  he  stood  on  the  river's  margin,  a  light  canoe 
passed  from  the  other  side,  toward  the  huts.  It  landed 
in  the  shadow,  and  Anita  stepped  from  it  alone  and 
glided  noislessly  up  the  bank.  He  completed  his  ob 
servations  and  returned  to  his  quarters.  Had  he  re 
mained  by  the  river  thirty  minutes  later,  he  might  have 
seen  Home  enter  the  canoe,  and  row  to  the  other  side. 

The  night  passed  peacefully,  and  the  three  gentlemen 
sat  down  to  breakfast  the  next  morning,  the  young  ladies 
still  absent.  Dr.  Gray  told  Dudley  he  was  entrusted  with 
an  invitation  to  him  to  be  present  at  a  council,  near  the 
camp,  in  the  afternoon  of  that  day. 

Home  said  if  he  wished  the  horses  started  on  the  re 
turn  that  morning,  one  or  more  of  his  men  should  go  on 
with  them.  Dudley  would  be  well  mounted,  and  could 
easily  gain  their  camp  for  the  night.  There  were  many 
concurring  reasons  why  he  should  remain,  and  he  felt  like 
being  at  the  council.  When  Dr.  Gray  told  him  that 
Edith  had  gone  to  the  other  side  for  the  day,  he  decided 
to  go.  Her  conduct  seemed  strange.  He  did  not  know 
the  native  usage  with  women  guests.  Perhaps  the  young 
lady  placed  herself  voluntarily  beyond  the  chance  of 
his  meeting  her  again.  He  could  think  of  no  reason  for 
such  a  course  ;  but  that  he  should  think  of  it,  made  it 
seem  probable.  He  would  cross  the  river,  but  the  young 
lady  should  find  no  difficulty  in  avoiding  him.  He  di 
rected  the  boys  to  complete  the  arrangements  for  the 


The  Queen  s  Gift.  73 

departure,  and  await  orders.  As  he  went  out  again  he 
saw  Anita  hurrying  from  the  landing  to  Dr.  Gray's 
quarters.  On  his  return  Dudley  found  him  much  dis 
turbed. 

"  Mr.  Dudley,"  he  said  directly,  "  I  received  a  message 
from  the  other  side.  I  must  ask  you  at  once  to  mount 
your  horse,  and  set  out  on  your  return.  Some  bad  in 
fluence  is  at  work,  to  cause  you  the  greatest  personal  ill. 
It  comes  from  a  source  not  to  be  disregarded.  In  no 
event  are  you  to  cross  the  river." 

"  Oh,  my  absence  is  wished  from  this  council  then  ? 

"  You  were  invited  in  good  faith,  I  know." 

"  I  would  not  go  unbidden,  I  will  not  stay  away  under 
the  threat  of  danger,"  showing  spirit.  "  If  I  am  the  guest 
of  Round-head,  who  will  dare  menace  me  ?  " 

A  light  hand  was  laid  on  his  arm.  He  turned  and  was 
confronted  by  the  Shawanoe,  whose  entrance  was  un 
heard  by  him. 

"  Bad  men,"  he  said  in  English  with  a  gesture  toward 
the  other  side,  "  Round-head  not  control.  My  Ameri 
can  brother  will  go." 

"  Into  an  ambush,  if  what  you  say  is  true,  Shawanoe," 
replied  Dudley. 

"  Shawanoe  guards  his  brother's  trail ; "  was  the 
reply. 

"A  great  chief  invites  me  to  his  council,  a  girl  sings 
of  danger  in  my  ears  ;  shall  I  run  like  a  frightened  woman  ? 
Does  my  great  brother  so  counsel  ? " 

"  Shawanoe  says  go.  He  knows  his  words."  His  ut 
terance  and  manner  were  very  impressive. 

"  I  implore  !  "  cried  Dr.  Gray.  "  Don't  for  heaven's 
sake  let  your  serving  me  involve  you  in  peril." 

"  As  you  please,  gentlemen,  I  go. 


74  The   Torys  Daughter. 

A  word  to  the  young  men  and  all  was  ready.  Dud 
ley,  chafed  and  hurt,  turned  back  for  leave  taking, 

"  Mr.  Dudley,"  said  Dr.  Gray,  clasping  his  hands, 
"  Nothing  has  so  moved  me  as  the  painful  way  of  this 
parting.  You  will  certainly  see  or  hear  from  me  again." 

"  Oh,  it  is  to  be,  my  dear  sir.  Don't  let  it  disturb  you. 
I  don't  see  Home,"  he  added. 

"  This  evil  word  took  him  away.  I  will  say  your 
adieux  to  him." 

"  Thanks !  Any  terms  you  choose."  He  looked  about 
and  lingered. 

"  My  daughter  is — "    Dr.  Gray  hesitated. 

"  Is  also  on  the  other  side  ;  "  supplied  Dudley,  smiling 
pleasantly,  though  there  was  sarcasm  in  his  voice. 

"  I  greatly  regret  her  absence — as  will  she.  You  can 
certainly  trust  me  with  any  word  or  message  to  her,  Mr. 
Dudley." 

"  It  is  no  matter,  she  knew  I  must  go  soon.  She  sends 
me  word  to  go  sooner.  Tell  her  from  me  that  I  ran  at 
once,"  laughing  in  quite  his  old  unconcerned  way. 

"  Is  that  all  you  would  say,  Mr.  Dudley  ?  " 

"That  is  all,  Dr.  Gray;  "  quite  decisively,  turning  away. 

Dr.  Gray  was  sorely  hurt.  He  was  in  no  position  to 
take  exception  to  anything  the  youth  might  say,  or  do. 

"  Mr.  Dudley,  even  in  this  hour  I  may  ask,  has  my  child 
deserved  this  at  your  hands  ?  " 

"  Dr.  Gray,  I  beg  your  pardon.  I  will  see  the  young 
lady  herself  if  she  permits.  I  will  attend  this  council." 
Haughtily,  with  something  like  a  flash  of  his  eyes,  this  was 
said. 

"Go,  go,  Mr.  Dudley,  go  at  once,  God  will  grant 
another  time.  May  he  ever  bless  and  keep  you,"  with 
fervor." 


The  Queens  Gift.  75 

In  the  outer  room  the  young  man  met  Anita,  weeping 
bitterly.  "  My  poor,  poor  child  ;  "  he  said  tenderly,  taking 
one  of  her  slim,  brown  hands  in  both  his  own.  "  Don't 
cry  ;  you  break  my  heart." 

"  Me  so  sorry,  "  plaintively  she  said. 

"  Why  should  you  weep  ?  your  friends  and  relatives  are 
here,  your  sister,  all  you  love  ; "  very  brightly.  He  took 
from  his  vest  pocket  an  old  fashioned  jewel  for  a  woman's 
ear,  curiously  wrought  of  gold  and  silver  threads,  contain 
ing  a  topaz,  which  he  placed  in  her  hand.  "  This  to  remem 
ber  Cliff  by.  It  came  from  my  dead  mother,"  he  said. 

"  Oh  !"  prolonged  in  a  little  ecstasy  of  delight.  "  Edith  ? 
my  sister  Edith  ?"  asking  if  it  was  for  her. 

"  Is  it  for  Edith  ?     No,  for  you,  for  Anita." 

"  Edith  ?  "  again  asking  what  he  had  for  her. 

"  Did  she  know  her  sister  Anita  was  coming  across  the 
river  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Edith  a  girl,"  was  the  pathetic  answer.  Being  a  girl 
she  could  send  no  word  or  message  which  the  sorrowing 
Indian  maiden  would  regard  as  fitting,  on  this  occasion. 

"No  matter;"  was  the  curt  reply  ;  the  youth,  man-like, 
in  his  anger  not  catching  the  girl's  subtle  meaning. 
"  Good-by,  my  little  sister.  May  the  Great  Spirit  keep  you 
ever."  With  fervor  the  words  were  spoken. 

The  poor  child  heard  and  understood  what  passed 
between  Edith's  father  and  Dudley.  She  still  hoped  to 
secure  from  him  some  tender  message — a  word  for  her 
sister.  Failing,  she  cast  her  face  into  her  hands,  and 
abandoned  herself  to  a  paroxysm  of  grief.  Had  she 
received  it,  her  plan  was  to  fly  across  the  river  and  return 
with  some  responsive  message  from  Edith. 

Everything  outside  was  ready  and  awaited  Dudley's 
approach.  On  his  appearance,  "  Shawanoe  will  show  his 


76  The  Torys  Daughter. 

young  brother  the  trail ;  "  said  that  chief.  They  mounted, 
entered  the  wood,  and  were  soon  lost  to  the  sad-eyed 
Anita,  who  was  too  heavy  hearted  to  fly  across  the  river 
in  her  light  birch  canoe  as  she  had  intended.  As  they 
disappeared,  with  her  now  uncared  for  trinket  in  her  hand, 
she  moved  slowly  to  the  river  shore,  and  stood  by  her 
waiting  boat,  unwilling  to  seek  the  presence  of  her  sister. 

A  few  yards  over  the  decaying  trunks  of  fallen  trees 
and  through  thick  second  growths,  brought  the  cavalcade 
to  the  well  defined  bed  of  an  ancient  trail,  running  south 
easterly,  an  old  Indian  road  leading  to  the  far  interior, 
and  which  intercepted  the  trail  of  the  returning  travellers, 
several  miles  from  the  river,  thus  shortening  the  distance 
considerably.  When  this  opened  to  the  party,  a  gesture 
of  the  guide  induced  Dudley  to  direct  the  young  men  to 
pass  in  advance,  which  they  did,  each  leading  a  horse. 

The  mare  ridden  by  Edith,  wearing  her  unburdened 
saddle,  was  in  Dudley's  care  as  he  paused  by  the  side  of 
Shawanoe,  who  observed  her,  and  knew  something  of  the 
chivalrous  regard  in  which  the  white  gentleman  held  the 
woman  of  his  race,  he  said  as  if  to  himself,  "  Her  horse." 

"  She  rode  her,"  was  Dudley's  response. 

"  It  is  well ;  "  replied  the  chief  approvingly. 

As  they  moved  forward  now  in  the  rear,  in  fair  English 
he  said.  "  The  heart  of  Shawanoe  is  under  the  eyes  of 
his  young  brother,  will  he  open  his  ears  ?  " 

"  Gladly,  to  the  words  of  a  chief/' 

"  Shawanoe  is  at  peace  with  all  the  Americans.  He 
would  not  have  war.  The  Seventeen  fires*  have  land 
enough.  Let  them  keep  it,  let  them  not  drive  my  people 
farther  west,  and  Shawanoe  is  their  strongest  friend. 


*  17  fires — 17  states  of  the  U.  S. 


The  Queen  s  Gift.  77 

Listen.  My  brother  should  know,  the  land  was  the 
land  of  all  the  red  men,  not  this  the  land  of  the  Wyandot; 
that  the  land  of  the  Delaware  ;  and  beyond  the  land  of 
the  Cherokee,  the  Choctaw.  Each  owns  everywhere. 
All  and  each  own,  nations  live  here,  there  on  the  land  of 
all.  Does  my  brother  understand  ?  " 

"  Shawanoe  means  that  each  nation  is  an  equal  owner 
with  every  other  nation  of  all  the  land  ?  " 

"  Dudley  understands.  Listen !  All  the  nations  must 
sell  all  our  lands,  much  or  little." 

"  The  Wyandots  cannot  sell  the  land  called  theirs,  set 
off,  reserved  to  them  by  the  Seventeen  fires,  unless  all 
join  in  the  treaty — is  that  it  ?  "  asked  the  youth. 

"  That  is  Shawanoe's  mind  ;  "  said  the  chief.  "  The 
past  was  the  work  of  our  fathers.  Shawanoe  leaves  it  in 
their  graves.  He  has  seen  the  nations.  His  mind  is 
the  mind  of  all.  Not  a  hill,  plain,  stream  ;  not  a  tree  or 
stone  more,  shall  the  Seventeen  fires,  or  their  great  father, 
the  President,  gain,  until  all  the  nations  unite  in  the  sale. 
Shawanoe  builds  a  wall ;  all  his  people  stand  on  the  other 
side  of  that  wall." 

The  voice  was  full,  sonorous,  yet  musical,  the  hand 
moved  in  graceful  gesture  ;  the  whole  man,  face  and 
eyes,  spoke  with  energy. 

"  My  older  brother's  ideas  of  the  red  man's  ownership 
of  land  are  new  to  Dudley.  Do  the  Seventeen  fires  and 
their  great  fathers  know  the  mind  of  my  brother  ?  " 

"  They  do." 

"  My  brother  knows  of  the  gathering  of  his  people,  be 
yond  the  Wabash  ?  " 

"  Has  my  young  brother  heard  that  the  great  American 
father  is  now  preparing  to  survey  the  land  beyond  the 
Wabash  ?  He  knows  it  is  ours." 


78  The   Tory's  Daughter. 

"  Does  the  Prophet  mean  war  ?  "  Not  answering  the 
chief's  question. 

"  He  means  peace.  There  will  be  no  war,  unless  you 
take  the  land  from  under  our  feet.  Then  war,"  his 
eyes  flashing. 

"  Should  the  Americans  have  war  with  the  English, 
what  will  my  brother  do  ?  " 

"  My  people  are  poor,  they  do  not  want  war ;  leave 
them  their  land  and  I  am  a  friend  of  the  Americans." 

Dudley  could  hardly  turn  his  eye  from  the  fine,  lithe, 
elegant  form,  the  noble  head  and  face  of  the  barbarian, 
still  quite  young  in  looks.  Who  could  he  be,  who  spoke 
for  all  the  tribes  ? 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  my  older  brother ;  "  he  said.  "  His 
words  will  keep  place  in  my  mind." 

"  My  young  brother's  words  are  good.  His  acts  are 
good.  Shawanoe  will  always  be  his  friend,  though  war 
comes." 

"  Dudley  will  be  true  to  his  brother ;  "  he  said  warmly 
in  reply. 

"  It  is  good  ;  "  said  the  chief.  They  moved  on  a  little 
distance  in  silence.  Finally  the  chief  said,  "  The  English 
Home — does  my  brother  know  him  well  ? " 

"  Captain  Home  ?  Dudley  never  saw  him  till  four  days 
ago." 

"  When  war  comes  between  the  Americans  and  the 
English,  my  brother  will  meet  the  English  chief  in  battle, 
and  strike  him  ;  "  said  the  chief,  with  energy. 

"  Is  he  an  enemy,  more  than  other  Englishmen  ?  " 

"  Speaks  foolish  words.  Bad  men  hear  them.  They 
go  out.  He  cannot  gather  them  back  in  his  hands." 

Dudley  breathed  out  a  long  drawn,  low  whistle  and 
then  laughed  a  light  hearted  laugh. 


TJie  Queen's  Gift.  79 

"  My  young  brother's  heart  is  good.  He  laughs,  and 
has  no  fear ;  "  said  the  chief,  a  plesant  smile  on  his 
lips. 

"  Did  my  brother  hear  the  bad  words  ?  "  asked  Dud 
ley. 

"  They  reached  Shawanoe's  little  sister." 

"Anita?" 

A  look  of  assent. 

"  So  I  am  running  away  from  Home,"  laughing. 
"  Chief,  I  will  go  back  ;  "  turning  his  horse  back. 

"  My  brother  will  go  east,"  said  the  chief,  catching  the 
chief's  rein  and  arresting  the  movement. 

"  Shawanoe  is  right.  There  is  no  time  or  room  for  a 
quarrel,"  said  Dudley,  much  vexed  and  chagrined.  Yet 
to  save  him  he  could  not  help  laughing  at  the  position  he 
occupied  in  his  own  eyes  with  this  half  light  on  the  cause 
of  his  flight.  He  asked  many  questions.  The  chief 
could  not  or  would  not  answer  them.  Some  miles  they 
went,  and  struck  the  trail  of  the  day  before.  Here  Shaw 
anoe  dismounted.  He  had  ridden  the  horse  of  Home  on 
the  journey  west,  and  would  walk  back.  Standing,  he 
took  from  the  breast  inside  his  hunting  shirt  a  deer  skin 
parcel,  from  which  he  drew  a  small,  quaintly  fashioned, 
well-worn  medal — it  may  have  been  wrought  of  gold,  to 
which  was  attached  a  fresh  scarlet  ribbon.  This  he 
handed  to  the  surprised  Dudley,  saying — "  My  young 
brother  will  wear  this  in  battle." 

"  In  battle  ?     Why  ?  " 

"  My  warriors  will  know  it." 

Dudley  holding  it  in  his  hand,  still  had  his  eyes  on  the 
chief's  face,  as  if  he  would  know  more. 

"  It  came  to  Shawanoe  from  his  sister  •  "  added  the 
chief. 


8o  The  Tory's  Daughter. 

"Anita?" 

"  From  his  English  sister/' 

"  Oh  !  "  prolonged.     "  And — and  for  me  ?  "  eagerly. 

"  If  that  pleases  the  heart  of  my  young  brother." 

"  More  than  he  dare  say." 

"  When  Dudley  again  meets  Shawanoe's  English  sister 
he  will  show  her  that ;  "  pointing  to  the  decoration.  "  She 
will  understand.  Shawanoe  leaves  his  young  brother." 
Extending  his  hand,  his  face  showing  sadness,  Dudley 
grasped  and  pressed  it  warmly.  Just  then  not  able  to  com 
mand  his  voice,  their  hands  unclasped.  The  Indian 
turned  and  walked  back  along  the  old  trail,  moving  with 
the  light,  firm  step  of  Dudley,  rather  than  with  the  sham 
bling  gait  of  his  race. 

The  young  men  as  they  entered  the  known  trail,  seeing 
Dudley  and  the  chief  stop,  halted  also,  and  witnessed  the 
parting. 

"  Boys,"  said  the  youth,  approaching  them,  "  There 
goes  the  finest  form  and  the  noblest  soul  that  ever  ap 
peared  in  the  woods  of  America." 

"  Yis.  'E's  a  good  looken  enuff  Ingin  ;  "  said  the  old 
hunter,  showing  from  behind  a  tree,  as  if  all  the  time  of 
the  party. 

"  Hullo  !  Carter — what's  up  ?  what  sent  you  here  ?  " 
called  the  surprised  yet  pleased  Dudley  to  him,  cheerily. 

"  Wai,  nuthin  purty  much.  I'se  kind  a  lonesome  like, 
'n  I  thought  I'de  foller  on  an  see  'ow  ye  cum  on,  "  he  an 
swered.  "  'E's  a  good  looken  Ingin,  an'  gon  right  back — 
mebby.  You  go  on,  and  I'le  kinder  purtect  the  rare.'"' 

"  Well,  I'm  glad  to  see  you,  anyway,"  said  the  now 
laughing  young  man.  "  Go  on,  boys,"  who  obeyed  with 
alacrity. 


The  Queens  Gift.  8 1 

"  Wai,  ye  see,  I  didn't  know  w'at  might  'appen,"  said 
Carter,  thinking  his  presence  needed  an  excuse. 

"  All  right.  Boys,  we'll  camp  on  Black  River  to-night," 
called  Dudley  cheerily  to  them. 

How  bright  the  world  was  to  him  with  his  toy  !  He  had 
flashed  to  the  conclusion,  that  it  was  from  the  hand  of 
Edith  to  him,  direct.  So  he  managed  to  press  it  many 
times  furtively,  to  his  lips.  It  did  not  occur  to  him  that 
Anita  would  be  the  bearer,  instead  of  an  Indian  chiaf. 
If  it  had,  who  would  expect  a  young  lady  to  give  such  a 
thing  to  an  Indian  for  himself,  and  why  should  he  bestow 
her  gift  on  a  stranger  ?  He  for  the  time  forgot  what 
Anita  said  of  her  sister.  "  She  was  a  girl,"  and  so  could 
send  him  nothing.  No  matter — as  he  said  to  the  weep 
ing  child,  who  besought  him  for  one  poor  word  to  the  ab 
sent  one.  He  had  his  toy,  it  was  from  her,  perhaps  not  a 
token  of  love  :  of  course  it  was  not,  but  of  kind  remem 
brance  and  favor,  so  he  kissed  it  again.  How  cruel  his 
unkind  words  of  her  now  seemed  !  He  was  very  young. 
He  may  learn  more  of  the  magnanimity  of  Shawanoe. 
Lessons,  however  learned  of  the  exceptional  nature  and 
character  of  women  of  Edith's  quality,  will  harm  him 
none,  unappreciative  of  himself  and  pure  of  heart  as  he 
was. 

It  is  probable  the  young  woman  was  induced  to  pass 
to  the  west  side  of  the  Huron  and  remain  there,  till  the 
departure  of  Dudley,  and  I  am  quite  certain  both  she 
and  her  father  were  not  then  informed  of  any  supposed 
connection  between  Home,  and  the  suspected  design 
against  the  young  man. 

The  twilight  of  that  day  was  deepening  in  the  room  oc 
cupied  by  Edith  and  Anita.  Weary  from  her  journey, 
depressed  with  sadness,  Edith  reclined  on  a  low  couch, 
6 


82  The  Torys  Daughter. 

her  head  in  the  tender  Indian  girl's  lap.  She  had  given 
way  to  tears ;  though  now  composed,  she  was,  perhaps  for 
the  first  time,  oppressed  with  that  sense  of  helplessness, 
which  comes  many  times  upon  women  by  reason  of  their 
womanhood,  under  some  conditions  in  which  one  of  the 
other  sex  is  involved.  They  are  to  be  and  remain  silent, 
passive,  because  they  are  women,  girls.  Let  what  will 
happen,  they  cannot  seek  or  offer  explanations. 

"  O  Anita  !  we  are  two  helpless,  motherless  girls,  with 
no  one  to  say  a  word  for  us,  or  do  a  kind  act,  or  tell  us 
what  we  may  do  or  say  ourselves,"  she  said,  in  a  sad 
voice. 

"  Edith  father,"  suggested  the  Indian  girl. 

"  He  is  a  man.  A  father  hides  his  daughter.  Cliffton 
asked  if  I  knew  you  were  to  come  here  ;  your  answer 
admitted  I  did  know  it,  though  I  did  not  know  why. 
Your  answer — '  Edith  a  girl,'  merely  a  helpless  mute 
woman,  that  told  all  to  a  woman.  It  said  nothing  to  a 
man.  What  poor  creatures  they  are,  when  proved.  A 
poor  little  good-bye,  would  have  contented  him,  had  I 
known.  How  did  he  look,  Anita  ?  Tell  me  all  about  it." 

"  What  call  sad  face — white  ;  then  proud  to  father,  say 
'  no  matter '  twice.  It  hurt  him." 

"'No  matter  !r  'No  matter!'  They  were  the  best 
words.  Oh,  I  know  how  he  felt !  a  good-bye  word  across 
the  river  to  me,  were  nothing.  His  words  here,  his  look, 
his  being  hurt,  are  much  more,  much  better.  You  don't 
understand  my  words,  do  you  ?  " 

"  My  sister's  heart  good  !  "  answered  Anita,  lifting  her 
head  and  touching  the  red  mouth  with  her  lips. 

"  These  four  days  and  then  this  bitter  fifth — Oh,  so 
bitter !  Was  this  a  plan  to  hurry  him  away,  prevent  a 
leave-taking  ?  I  wish  I  knew !  " 


The  Queens  Gift.  83 

"  Chief — Uncle  go  with  him — Home,  English  Home," 
sharply. 

"  What  of  him  ?  "  eagerly. 

"  Say  bad  words — very  bad." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? " 

"  Hate  young  chief." 

"Anita  is  to  think  nothing  but  good  of  Captain  Home." 

"  Anita  think  nothing.  Edith  ask  Uncle — ask  Shawa- 
noe."  Then  came  two  or  three  minutes'  silence. 

"  Where  do  you  suppose  he  is  now  ? "  asked  Edith. 

"  My  sister's  heart  is  with  the  young  chief  ?  " 

"  Why  not  ?  I've  nothing  else  pleasant  to  think  about. 
Where  does  Anita  think  the  young  chief  is  now  ? " 

"  In  camp,  by  black-  shining  water.  All  still.  He 
close  his  eyes  and  listen.  He  hear  Edith  laugh,  he  start 
up  to  look  for  her ;  all  still,  night  come  down  in  woods. 
Him  very  sad,  very  lonesome." 

"  You  blessed  child,"  caressing  her.  "  Will  Edith  ever 
see  him  again  ?  " 

"Will  sun  rise?  Anita  meet  young  chief  in  woods. 
She  bring  him  to  Edith.  Anita  bring  him  ?  " 

"  Shall  you  bring  him  ?     If  you  find  him." 

"  Anita  find  him,  bring  him,"  confidently. 


CHAPTER  V. 

ON   THE    EVE. 

1812-1813,  characters  of  fire  on  the  brow  of  the  west 
ern  province  of  the  Crown,  then  called  Upper  Can 
ada  or  Canada  West.  An  episode  which  gave  her  name 
and  place  in  English  and  American  history,  to  which 
her  children  turn  with  pride.  It  was  then  largely  the 
home  of  the  English  inhabitants  ;  had  become  the  place 
of  refuge  of  most  who  fled  from  the  States,  when  self- 
constituted  law  gave  form  to  their  appeal  to  arms,  against 
the  common  sovereign. 

These  adherents  to  the  cherished  loyalty  of  Englishmen 
became  the  objects  of  hatred  and  persecution,  that  in  our 
traditions  and  literature,  took  the  most  odious  forms,  and 
still  endure.  Their  sole  offence,  their  sharing  largely 
the  once  universal  sentiment  of  devotion  to  the  sovereign, 
taught  in  all  the  colonies  as  a  primal  virtue,  a  part  of 
religious  faith  essential  to  private  worth,  and  the  crown 
of  civic  and  public  service.  In  the  breaking  up,  as  it 
seemed  to  them,  of  the  foundations  of  society,  incidental 
to  an  impious  rebellion,  they  stood  firm  in  old  faiths  and 
devotions,  took  no  new  ideas,  entered  upon  no  new  action, 
were  guilty  of  no  crime,  shared  in  no  apostacy  of  faith, 
or  deviation  in  conduct  from  established  standards.  In 
their  devotion  to  principle,  honor,  education,  tradition, 
and  what  for  them  was  duty — they  took  up  arms,  went  to 
battle,  to  prison,  confiscation,  exile,  death.  Men  capable 

84 


On  the  Eve.  85 

of  such  devotion  were  men  of-  high  natures  and  inflexible 
character,  which  in  any  other  cause  would  have  won  from 
their  countrymen  the  most  exalted  respect  and  the 
warmest  admiration.  Between  the  revolted  colonies  and 
the  loyal  provinces  lay  vast  stretches  of  stormy  sea,  and 
wide  regions  of  dreary  wilderness,  to  be  traversed  by  the 
exiles  for  conscience's  sake.  The  Crown  received  and 
sheltered  it,  in  the  scantiest  way,  indemnified  its  subjects, 
who  renounced  all  for  it.  These  expected,  hoped,  prayed, 
fought,  for  the  triumph  of  the  royal  arms.  They  looked 
forward  to  a  return,  a  realization  of  what  men  in  their 
position  might  expect  from  victory.  They  reciprocated 
the  hatred  of  their  new  enemies  with  the  added  sense  of 
personal  wrong.  When  their  hopes  perished,  impover 
ished,  heart-sick,  doubting  the  justice  of  God,  or  seeing 
it  deferred  to  a  day  of  later  retribution,  they  rebuilt  their 
lives  as  they  might,  and  awaited  its  coming  in  the  ripen 
ing  time. 

Remote  in  the  distance  and  late  to  be  informed,  they 
watched  with  the  restiveness  of  men  personally  interested, 
through  the  years  of  renewed  quarrel  between  the  two 
nations,  knowing  it  was  but  a  continuous  burning  of  the 
old,  smothered,  not  extinguished  animosity.  That  the 
Americans  should  take  advantage  of  the  perilous  condi 
tion  of  England  to  strike  her,  they  expected.  Still  when 
Congress  declared  war,  so  confident  were  they  that  to 
them  it  seemed  the  madness  preceding  destruction. 
They  knew  the  aroused  bitterness  of  their  enemies. 
They  did  not  anticipate  a  renewal  of  Arnold's  expedition. 
The  lower  province  was  protected  by  the  same  sea,  the 
same  wilderness,  traversed  by  no  road.  The  western, 
where  they  mostly  lived,  was  behind  the  lakes,  which 
Great  Britain  ruled.  The  tribes  of  numerous  and  power- 


86  The  Tory's  Daughter. 

ful  Indians  were  their  allies,  eager  for  the  word  to  leap 
upon  a  wide  exposed  frontier  ;  fit  instruments  in  the  hand 
of  God  to  work  his  long  delayed  vengeance.  They  felt 
little  apprehension  of  invasion  from  the  western  border. 
Michigan  was  an  unbroken  wilderness,  as  was  all  north 
ern  Indiana.  There  were  feeble  settlements  at  Cleveland 
and  eastward.  The  inhabitants  of  Ohio  must  traverse 
two  hundred  miles  of  savage  wilds,  and  the  people  of 
Kentucky  nearly  twice  that  distance  to  reach  them. 
They  felt  safe. 

Not  long  did  this  sense  of  security  continue.  Sud 
denly,  with  but  a  day's  notice,  an  American  general  at 
the  head  of  an  American  army,  crossed  the  Detroit  river, 
issued  a  stirring  proclamation,  and  was  in  possession  of 
everything  but  the  feeble  fort  at  Maiden.  Consterna 
tion,  a  sense  of  utter  helplessness,  paralyzed  the  Cana 
dians.  They  were  capable  of  being  aroused  and  taking 
arms  effectively.  There  was  a  man  at  the  head  of  civil 
and  military  government,  equal  to  any  demand.  Crea 
tive,  masterful,  confident,  the  ablest  English  commander 
ever  appearing  on  the  continent,  not  excepting  Wolf  or 
Cornwallis.  His  voice  called  into  action  the  latent 
courage  and  energy  of  the  people  of  his  province.  They 
only  needed  to  hear  the  trumpet  call,  and  find  a  leader. 

The  refugees,  old  and  young,  all  of  English,  Scotch 
and  Irish  blood,  arose  at  the  call,  nor  did  the  French 
linger  long.  The  Robinsons,  Coffins,  Sheaffes,  New 
Englanders ;  the  McDonalds  and  Evanses,  men  of  high 
courage ;  the  McNabs,  and  others  first  planted  in 
Canada,  at  once  responded.  With  these  and  a  small 
body  of  his  old  regiment,  with  him  under  Nelson  at 
Copenhagen,  Brock  flew  to  meet  the  invader  of  his 
western  border.  He  reached  it  to  find  that  his  enemy, 


On  the  Eve.  87 

thinking  better  or  worse  of  his  enterprise,  had  returned 
to  the  American  shore,  sheltered  in  a  strong,  well-armed 
fort,  whose  guns  did  not  command  the  river  (it  was  built 
to  protect  from  Indians)  ;  but  he  was  amply  prepared  to 
erect  powerful  shore  batteries  which  would  annoy  him  on 
his  own  side.  The  American  had  a  spirited,  well-armed 
body  of  troops,  which  in  efficient  hands  might  set  him 
at  defiance,  and  who  evidently  desired  nothing  so  much 
as  his  approach.  Brock  also  found  awaiting  his  arrival 
an  ally  worthy  to  share  his  counsel  and  confidence,  un 
doubtedly  the  ablest  leader  of  native  warriors  ever  met 
by  soldiers  of  European  origin  on  this  continent. 

The  Shavvanoe  returned  from  his  meeting  with  the  Eng 
lish  emissaries  on  the  Huron,  to  find  that,  in  violation 
of  his  explicit  commands,  his  brother,  Tensk-wau-tawa, 
the  famous  prophet,  had  with  all  his  bands  attacked 
Governor  Harrison  in  his  camp  on  the  Tippecanoe,  and 
been  utterly  defeated.  Many  of  his  bravest  chiefs  and 
warriors  were  slain,  and  the  survivors,  depressed  and 
sullen,  escaped  to  their  villages  or  were  dispersed  in  the 
forest.  Thus  in  an  hour  the  well  wrought  fabric  of  years 
was  dissipated.  The  wall  along  the  border  of  the  Indian 
lands,  behind  which  at  his  call  the  embattled  nations 
would  stand,  vanished  like  a  mist.  The  surveyors  re 
sumed  their  work  beyond  the  Wabash. 

Embittered,  enraged,  the  great  leader  repaired  to  Mai 
den  and  accepted  the  terms  offered  him  on  the  Huron. 
These  bound  him  not  to  strike,  save  in  concert  with  the 
British,  who  were  to  subsist  his  warriors  and  their  fam 
ilies.  There  assembled  under  his  standard  a  thousand  or 
twelve  hundred  warriors,  the  flower  of  the  immediate 
Western  nations,  who,  commanded  by  him,  were  more 
than  equal  to  the  same  number  of  soldiers  however  com- 


88  The  Torys  Daughter. 

manded,  in  forest  warfare.  Encouraged  by  this  English 
ally,  he  now  entertained  the  idea  of  driving  the  settlers 
south  of  the  Ohio.  Pontiac's  plan  was  to  sweep  them 
east  of  the  Alleghanies. 

These  remarkable  men,  Brock  and  Tecumseh,  first  met 
on  the  arrival  of  the  Englishman  at  Maiden,  where  they 
stood  a  moment  confronting  each  other.  Mutual  sur 
prise,  admiration,  with  the  untaught  etiquette  which  is 
observed  by  many  barbarians,  kept  them  silent.  Nearly 
of  the  same  age,  and  of  equal  stature,  what  the  Eng 
lishman  gained  in  breadth  and  massiveness,  was  more 
than  compensated  by  grace  and  symmetry  in  the  Indian. 

Harrison  was  the  finest  looking  Anglo-American  Te 
cumseh  had  met  till  now.  He  had  come  to  hate  while  he 
still  admired  and  respected  his  foe.  For  the  average 
American  he  cherished  contempt.  With  the  person  and 
bearing  of  Brock,  he  was  more  than  satisfied.  With  his 
aid  he  would  avenge  Tippecanoe.  He  would  recover  the 
lost  lands.  Harrison  was  in  his  mind ;  by  him  he  esli- 
timated  Brock.  Brock  was  his  superior,  he  thought. 

"  My  brother  is  welcome,"  at  length  said  the  general, 
as  he  stepped  forward,  his  hand  extended. 

"Tecumseh  is  glad,"  responded  the  chief,  taking  the 
offered  hand. 

Like  is  gifted  to  recognize  its  own  in  others.  Brock 
did  not  see  an  Indian,  a  savage,  a  barbarian;  he  recog 
nized  a  broadly,  highly  endowed  man,  limited  by  his 
birth  and  surroundings,  which  in  many  ways  he  had  over 
leaped.  He  found  him  a  master  of  forest  strategy,  capa 
ble  of  bold  and  striking  designs,  with  the  audacity  which 
he  intended  should  mark  this  campaign.  His  time  there 
must  be  short.  His  Niagara  frontier  would  soon  reclaim 
him.  The  American  here  must  be  effaced.  Then  a 


On  tJie  Eve.  89 

lieutenant,  with  Tecumseh's  aid,  must  not  only  hold  this 
border,  but  sweep  the  southern  shore  of  Lake  Erie.  He 
found  the  chief  well  advised  of  the  strength  and  weak 
ness  of  their  enemy,  and  they  concurred  that  it  was  fortu 
nate  Harrison  was  not  opposed  to  them.  Both  expected 
to  meet  him  later.  Their  plans  very  nearly  coincided, 
which  gave  each  confidence  in  the  other.  The  points  of 
difference  were  soon  arranged.  Tecumseh  would  com 
mand  the  Indians,  under  the  orders  of  the  British  gen 
eral.  Brock  did  not  contemplate  a  reconquest  of  the 
North-west.  He  did  not  discourage  the  chief's  broader 
scheme. 

"  I  ask  two  things  more  of  my  brother,"  said  Brock. 
"  Will  your  warriors  refuse  fire-water  ?  " 

"Till  they  recross  the  Wabash.  Tecumseh  requires 
that." 

"It  is  well.  Our  great  English  Father,  the  Prince 
Regent,  requires  that  all  prisoners  and  wounded  shall  be 
well  treated ;  and  women  and  children  of  the  enemy,  and 
their  dwellings,  be  everywhere  protected." 

"  Tecumseh  has  promised  all  this  to  his  English 
sister." 

"Ah,  the  lovely  Edith,"  the  general's  face  lighting 
warmly.  "  All  men  keep  their  promises  to  her.  Now  we 
go  to  meet  Colonel  Proctor  and  his  officers,  and  review 
the  soldiers ;  and  then  we  will  meet  your  chiefs  and  war 
riors.  My  brother  will  learn  to  like  the  colonel.  He 
will  probably  be  left  in  command  here." 

They  found  him  and  his  officers  awaiting  the  general's 
approach.  Proctor  was  still  young,  a  stout,  person 
able,  handsome  man,  of  the  average  height  of  English 
men  ;  his  face  indicative  of  good-nature  and  good  cheer. 
A  coarse-fibred  man,  as  we  shall 'abundantly  see.  The 


90  The  Torys  Daughter. 

officers  saluted;  the  colonel  came  forward  to  receive 
the  commander,  well  known  to  all.  Brock's  manners 
were  of  the  frankest,  and  by  the  small  circle  of  the  army 
he  was  warmly  loved. 

Tecumseh  knew  Proctor  and  most  of  the  gentlemen 
present,  and  the  general  detected  coldness  and  distance 
in  his  manner,  not  only  toward  Proctor,  but  some  of  his 
officers.  Brock  knew  of  the  adventures  of  his  agent  in 
Ohio,  knew  that  the  chief  met  Home  there,  whom  he 
thought  well  of,  and  was  inclined  to  attribute  his  manner 
as  due  to  the  reticence  of  a  native  in  the  presence  of 
Europeans,  whose  language  he  was  not  master  of,  nor  was 
he  familiar  with  their  customs. 

The  available  force  of  English  were  under  arms.  Of 
the  very  respectable  body  which  wore  the  prescribed  liv 
ery  of  the  Prince  Regent,  Tecumseh  at  once  detected  a 
difference  in  the  precision  of  action  of  a  portion,  from 
the  larger  part.  The  most  were  automatic,  these  seemed 
to  move  individually.  The  general  was  pleased  with  his 
accuracy  of  perception,  and  explained  that  some  three 
hundred  were  really  militia,  now  in  scarlet,  for  the  eye  of 
the  American  general,  which  might  not  be  so  quick  as 
that  of  his  brother.  Tecumseh  appreciated  the  strategy, 
the  pleasantry,  and  the  compliment. 

"  Well,"  said  Proctor,  who  studied  the  effects,  "  they 
wear  their  clothes  well,  d — d  if  they  don't  now." 

"  Yes,  they  wear  their  clothes  a  d — d  sight  better  than 
they  dress"  was  Home's  response. 

Home  was  the  wit  of  the  western  contingent,  an  article 
never  in  excess  in  the  British  army,  and  estimated  ac 
cordingly.  Brock  smiled  dubiously  at  the  compliment  to 
his  show,  which  was  greeted  with  as  much  laughter  as  his 
presence  and  the  gravity  of  the  occasion  permitted. 


On  the  Eve.  91 

"  Devilish  good,"  said  the  more  appreciative  Proctor. 
"  Deserves  honorable  mention.  Do  you  good  at  the 
Horse  Guards."  His  want  of  appreciation  of  militia 
marked  his  lack  as  a  commander  in  dealing  with  a  mixed 
force. 

The  pageant  over,  Tecumseh  in  turn  became  host,  and 
led  the  general,  Proctor,  and  their  officers  to  his  camp,  a 
cantonment  of  the  wild  soldiery  of  the  forest.  There 
were  Wyandots,  Senecas  of  the  Sandusky,  Miamis,  Kick- 
apoos,  Pottawattamies,  Delawares,  Shawanoese,  Ottawas, 
men  of  many  nations.  Here  the  general  and  his  officers 
held  a  reception.  Colonels  Elliott  and  McKee,  names  of 
dread  and  hate  in  all  the  western  American  border, 
presented  the  chiefs — Round-head,  Walk-in-the-Water, 
Blackfish,  Young  Little-Turtle,  Jim  Blue-Jacket ;  but  the 
great  old  chiefs,  Black-hoof,  The  Crane,  Turkey's  tracks, 
Blue-Jacket,  Little-Turtle,  some  were  dead,  all  were  ab 
sent.  Still  the  array  of  fine  athletic  well  made  men,  good 
heads  and  gallant  bearing,  showed  no  falling  off  in  the 
manhood  of  the  woods,  and  the  leaders  displayed  a  brave 
following  of  warriors,  most  satisfactory  to  the  eye  of  the 
appreciative  Brock.  The  -  camp,  its  plan,  arrangement 
and  rude  police  showed  the  presence  of  a  careful,  exact 
ing  hand,  a  ruler,  as  well  as  a  chieftain  in  war. 

Brock  had  hastily  convened  the  upper  Canadian  Parlia 
ment  at  Little  York,  awoke  the  members  with  an  electric 
flash,  secured  its  sanction  of  his  measure,  called  about 
him  the  chivalry  of  the  lower  section  of  his  province,  hur 
ried  to  Long  Point,  a  large  point  of  the  war,  where  he 
rendezvoused  his  force.  Some  three  hundred  embarked  in 
open  boats,  and  made  the  voyage  along  the  northern 
coast. 

He  reached  Maiden  the  night  of  August  13.     Undis- 


92  The   Tory  s  Daughter. 

turbed  by  his  enemy  he  planted  his  guns,  opened  on  the 
fort  and  palisaded  town,  had  his  interview  with  Tecum- 
seh,  reviewed  the  Maiden  force  and  met  the  chiefs  on  the 
fourteenth.  The  fifteenth  was  devoted  to  final  prepara 
tion  for  the  invasion  of  the  enemies'  territory  in  turn. 
He  grasped  the  situation.  His  plan  was  audacious.  In 
other  hands  it  would  have  been  criticised.  None  thought 
of  aught  but  the  promptest  obedience  to  his  orders. 

One  there  was,  his  chief  of  civil  government,  privy 
councillor,  cabinet  minister,  man  of  all  work,  to  whom 
he  opened  himself,  for  his  own  relief. 

Perhaps  talking  over  his  plan,  giving  himself  the  ben 
efit  of  his  own  voice,  placed  it  in  clearer  light.  It  also 
occurred  to  him,  that  it  might  be  well  to  place  with 
another,  not  only  what  he  would  do,  but  the  reasons 
which  induced  him  to  do  it.  It  was  Saturday  night. 
The  week  had  proved  too  short  by  a  day.  He  must 
borrow  Sunday  and  find  what  he  seldom  sought,  a  day  of 
rest  later.  He  dismissed  his  aids  and  secretaries  from 
the  room,  and  began  : 

"  You  look  anxious,  but  remain  discreetly  silent,  O 
councillor,  minister,  grand  chamberlain  mine.  I  can't  be 
detained  here.  I  improve  the  Macbethian  rule :  the 
quicker  it  were  done  the  more  certain  it  will  be  to  be 
well  done. 

"The  American  General  Dearborn,  commanding  be 
low,  entered  into  an  armistice  with  my  chief,  the  good 
Prevost,  tying  his  own  hand  and  liberating  me — as  I  may 
do  anything  beyond  his  department.  It  can't  last  long, 
when  it  reaches  his  chief  at  Washington.  When  ended, 
his  six  thousand  soldiers  may  cross  the  Niagara.  To  my 
officers  I  give  orders.  They  might  not  like  my  reasons. 
I  never  offer  any,"  laughing.  "  A  general  who  calls  a 


On  tJie  Eve.  93 

council  of  war,  and  speaks  himself,  unless  to  mislead,  is 
gone.  So  if  he  only  knows  the  numbers,  arms  and  dispo 
sition  of  his  enemy,  even  if  he  knows  his  plans,  he  is  but 
half  informed.  He  must  know — know  him  well — the  man 
who  commands  against  him,  the  counsels  and  men  back 
of  him. 

"  Here  is  a  nation,  several  nations  of  farmers,  artisans, 
shop-keepers,  with  a  rabbly  government  of  demagogues, 
unwarlike,  no  army,  no  navy,  who  after  thirty  years  of 
peace,  rush  into  war  with  a  powerful  nation,  armed  at  all 
points, — never  at  peace.  Mr.  Madison,  a  timid  man,  his 
councils  divided;  the  strongest  states  in  opposition.  In 
tending  to  declare  war,  they  send  an  old  man,  who  has 
seen  no  active  service  since  his  youth,  two  hundred  miles 
from  their  Urbanna,  through  the  swampy  woods  with 
two  thousand  men,  four-fifths  of  whom  are  the  rawest 
militia.  He  is  wholly  unsupported.  It  would  take  half 
his  troops  to  keep  his  communications  open.  Michigan 
has  three  or  four  thousand  hunters  and  fishermen.  He 
cannot  subsist  his  army  two  days,  on  all  he  can  draw 
from  them.  An  advance  with  supplies,  has  been  for 
near  two  weeks  on  the  river  Raisin,  forty  miles  away, 
and  he  has  made  two  vain  attempts  to  communicate  with, 
and  bring  him  into  Detroit.  See  how  the  Washington 
men  managed.  Ignorant  that  war  was  declared  when 
he  struck  the  lake,  he  placed  his  baggage  and  papers, 
as  those  of  his  officers,  on  the  unarmed  Cuyahoga.  They 
have  not  a  gun  on  the  lake,  where  I  have  the  Queen, 
Charlotte,  Hunter,  Lady  Prevost — forty  guns  !  Well,  we, 
better  informed,  captured  his  baggage  and  papers.  I 
know  the  inside  weakness  and  mutinous  spirit  of  his 
militia  officers  and  men. 

"  When  he  reached  Detroit  what  did  he  do,  and  what 


94  The   Torys  Daughter. 

will  he  now  do?  He  landed  on  our  side  July  12  ;  think 
ing  better  of  it,  he  returned  Aug.  8.  Why  he  came  or 
why  he  left,  will  be  a  question  for  Yankee  historians ;  per 
haps  for  a  court  martial.  He  struck  no  blow,  offered  to 
strike  none.  He  issued  a  proclamation —  " 

"  Colonel  Cass  wrote  that,  "  said  his  companion. 

"  The  hero  of  the  Tarantee  ?  "  laughingly. 

"  So  it  is  said." 

"  Well,  we  laugh  at  these  raw  young  men.  They  mean 
mischief.  I  am  glad  Cass  is  not  in  command  over  there 
with  Colonel  Miller,  and  what  he  has  of  his  4th  to 
second  him.  They  mean  fight.  They  believe  war  is  to 
get  at  the  enemy,  and  open  at  once.  I  expect  these 
youths  worried  the  old  man  into  coming  over.  He  would 
naturally  expect  Dearborn  would  demonstrate  in  his  favor 
— would  at  least  detain  me  on  the  Niagara.  Well,  while 
here,  he  did  not  even  reconnoitre  our  feeble  works  at 
Maiden.  Miller  and  his  four  hundred  regulars,  supported 
by  Cass,  would  have  carried  the  fort  in  twenty  minutes. 
They  fought  the  battle  of  Tippecanoe — they  and  the  Ken- 
tuckians." 

"  Very  well,  Miller  is  over  there  now,  is  he  not — with 
him  ? " 

"Of  course,  but  he  commands  Miller — the  best  of  his 
volunteers,  with  Colonels  McArthur  and  Cass,  are  now 
absent  on  the  third  effort  to  reach  the  Raisin.  Why  did 
he  permit  me  to  plant  my  batteries  ?  You  hear  them 
now,"  and  they  did. 

"  He  refused  your  demand  for  a  surrender  yesterday, 
General." 

"  Yes,  after  detaining  my  officers  two  hours.  Then  he 
sent  to  me  by  them,  what  really  was  an  apology  for  his 
invasion.  My  war  will  differ  from  his.  Then  he  has 


On  the  Eve.  95 

heard  of  the  fall  of  Mackinaw  ;  and  to-day,  he  intercepted 
Proctor's  letter  to  Captain  Roberts,  now  in  possession 
there,  announcing  that  five  thousand  Indian  warriors 
are  on  the  way  to  attack  him  at  Detroit !  " 

11  Why,  don't  he  understand  that  was  intended  for 
him  ? " 

"  Not  a  glimmer  of  it !  Why,  who  would  practise  on 
him  ? " 

"  Poor  old  man  ! "  exclaimed  the  listener. 

"  The  poorest  of  old  men.  I  pity  him.  How  the  dema 
gogues  will  rend  him  !  He  thinks  Tecumseh  has  twenty- 
five  hundred  warriors.  You  know  they  crossed  over  to 
day.  He  has  but  little  over  a  thousand  of  all  arms  in  and 
about  the  fort.  It  is  weak  on  the  land  side.  We  built  it, 
and  just  why  we  constructed  it  weak  on  that  side  and 
unable  to  command  the  river,  is  not  apparent,  unless  it 
was  anticipated  that  I  would  have  to  capture  it  to-mor 
row.  Now  I  shall  cross  at  daylight,  and  land  at  Spring 
Wells.  The  Queen  Charlotte  will  cover  my  landing.  If 
I  am  not  met  at  the  landing,  as  I  shall  not  be,  the  fort  is 
mine  without  a  blow.  If  attacked  at  the  landing,  I  will 
carry  the  fort  by  assault.  Have  it  I  will.  Audacity,  if 
you  will — the  apprehensions  of  my  enemy  will  make  a 
short  and  bloodless  campaign — an  expedition  rather." 

"  God  grant  it ;  "  fervently. 

"  Now,  my  'dear  Grayson,  you  know  all  about  it.  I 
will  not  trouble  you  for  an  opinion.  You  are  only  asked 
to  clear  that  clouded  face,  and  look  and  feel  cheerful." 

"  I  confess,  General,  your  face,  voice  and  manner  are 
very  inspiring." 

"  Why  should  they  not  be  ?  I  am  thoroughly  awake. 
At  the  bottom  there  is  always  a  reserve  of  good  spirits." 

"  You'll  need  the  reserve  to-morrow,  General." 


96  The  Torys  DaugJiter. 

"  They'll  respond.  I  am  never  so  light  as  on  the  eve, 
except  in  the  fray." 

"  I  am  glad  to  find  the  war  so  popular  with  the  army," 
said  Grayson,  with  a  look  as  if  he  would  hear  from  the 
general  on  the  matter. 

"Very,  very." 

"  All  war  is,  I  suppose." 

"  Oh,  that  is  a  mistake.     There  is  more  in  this." 

"  Well — yes  ?  "  finishing  with  a  look. 

"  Now,  you  wish  to  punish  a  wicked  though  an  old  re 
bellion.  The  army  wants  to  wipe  out  an  old  disgrace. 
We  exchange  buffets  with  the  French,  Austrians,  Ger 
mans,  Dutch,  Spanish ;  lick  and  get  licked ;  give  and 
take.  They  are  soldiers,  trained  to  war,  our  equals. 
The  Americans  were  militia;  we  laid  down  our  arms, 
surrendered  our  swords  to  militia  generals,  Oh-h !  I 
know — I  know.  The  French  were  with  them  finally  ;  but 
the  end  would  have  been  the  same.  Who  was  Washing 
ton,  Green,  Starke,  Morgan — Oh,  lots  of  them,"  shak 
ing  his  head. 

"  Well,  we  shall  find  lots  more  like  them,"  said  Gray- 
son. 

"  Of  course — if  the  war  lasts.  We  must  strike  quick, 
decisive  blows.  Your  New  England  may  rebel — only  it 
will  not.  No,  we'll  strike  hard,  ringing  blows,  knock  them 
on  to  their  knees — that  is  our  way — my  wa^'." 

Grayson  arose  to  go.  "  I  am  glad  to  have  heard  you, 
General,  on  all  these  things.  I  wish  to-morrow  was 
over,"  he  added. 

"  Don't  go.  There  are  two  or  three  things — How  is 
the  lovely  Edith  ?  She  is  a  true  heroine.  Makes  heroes 
of  us  common  men." 


On  the  Eve.  97 

"  She  is  high  hearted  and  full  of  hope,  a  little  nervous. 
She  believes  in  the  general,  you  know,"  laughing. 

"  God  bless  her !  what  a  man  she  gave  me  in  Tecum- 
seh !  " 

"  You  don't  know  him  yet,  General." 

"  How  did  she  make  his  acquaintance,  get  her  influence 
over  him  ?  and  she  a  woman — though  that  may  be  it ; " 
laughing.  "  She  does  about  as  she  pleases  with  the 
rest  of  us.  Certain  things  are  more  potent  with  us 
in  women,  than  the  same  things  are  in  men." 

"  Well,  five  or  six  years  ago — Oh,  longer  than  that ; 
over  the  other  side,  we  were  there  one  winter.  Tecum- 
seh  had  a  sister  there,  Tecumapease,  as  remarkable  in 
her  poor  Indian  woman  way  as  he  is.  Edith  was 
teaching  Indians  to  read — when  she  was  fourteen  or  fif 
teen,  it  was  a  great  thing  with  her.  Tecumseh  was  there, 
and  she  taught  him,  Tecumapease  and  Wasegoboah,  her 
husband.  Both  the  men  were  then,  like  all  the  natives, 
given  to  drink,  and  they  came  in  one  day  half  drunk. 
The  women  were  frightened — all  but  Edith.  She  man 
aged  to  control  Tecumseh  ;  when  he  was  sober  she  got 
him  to  promise  to  never  drink  again.  He  never  has.  He 
attributes  his  present  position  to  this  reformation  which 
was  wholly  her  work.  Though  free  from  superstition  he 
regards  her  as  specially  gifted  from  heaven." 

"  What  became  of  Tecumapease  and  her  husband  ?  " 

"  They  are  there  in  the  Indian  camp — or  were,  as  is 
Tecumseh's  wife  and  son." 

"  And  this  Anita — who  is  with  you — is  she  their  daugh 
ter  ? " 

"  She  is  the  sole  child  of  the  elder  brother,  Cheeseekau, 
a  very  famous  chief,  slain  in  battle  at  the  south-west, 
when  young.  They  lost  their  father  while  Tecumseh  was 


98  The   Tory's  Daughter. 

a  lad,  and  Cheeseekau  had  the  care  of  him,  trained  him 
and  formed  his  character.  Several  things  he  dwelt 
upon,  until  they  made  parts  of  the  boy's  nature.  He 
was  always  to  tell  the  truth.  Be  brave  and  fearless 
under  all  possible  conditions.  Always  protect  a  prisoner, 
always  care  for  the  aged,  for  helpless  women  and  chil 
dren.*  These  are  cardinal  points,  and  so  far  as  we  have 
ever  heard,  he  has  strictly  conformed  to  them." 

"  Really  !  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  this.  Tecumseh  and 
his  niece  are  very  light ;  is  there  white  blood  in  their 
veins  ? " 

"  Tecumseh  says  not  a  touch — they  are  pure  Indians. 
He  is  the  soul  of  honor,  his  word  given,  is  kept  in 
letter  and  spirit.  One  thing  ;  he  don't  at  heart  like  us 
much  better  than  he  does  the  Americans.  He  thinks  we 
are  more  honorable,  and  are  useful  to  him  ;  but  he  is  an 
Indian  of  very  exceptional  endowments." 

"  I  fancied  as  much.  Well,  we  will  be  true  to  him, 
serve  him  in  good  faith,  win  his  gratitude,  and  through 
these  his  love.  They  are  a  remarkable  family.  The 
younger,  the  Prophet,  must  be  a  remarkable  man." 

"  Very,  very.     He  is  under  a  cloud  now." 

"  Well,"  said  the  general,  "  my  regards  to  Miss  Gray- 
son.  I  intended  to  call  upon  her, — can  hardly  do  so  this 
evening.  I  wanted  to  ask  her  of  my  gallant  friend  Home. 
There  is  something  in  him  that  might  enlist  a  girl's  fancy, 
though  after  all  he  is  commonplace,  is'nt  just — well — 
Is  there  a  man  deserving  her  ?  That  is  not  the  way  to 
put  it.  Of  course  there  is  not ;  but  a  man  fit  to  mate 
with  her  ?  O  dear  !  Tecumseh  is  married,  and  I  am 
rough  and  old;"  laughing.  " Your  rescuer  of  the  Ohio 

*  Drake's  "  Life  of  Tecumseh." 


On  the  Eve.  99 

woods  may  prove  to  be  the  man  ;  who  knows  ?  Some  of 
them  are  fine  fellows." 

"  I  suspect  he  is  over  the  other  side  now,"  said  Gray- 
son. 

"  Ah  !  well,  that  would  be  interesting.  You  may  have 
an  opportunity  of  serving  him  ;  who  can  tell !  "  laughing. 

"  I  hope  he  is  not  there.  Of  course  we  have  never 
heard  a  whisper  of  him  since  our  strange  parting,  on 
their  Huron." 

"  Well  now,  Grayson,  you  and  the  girls  will  see  us  move 
in  the  morning;  and  hold  yourselves  ready  to  cross  over." 
"If  I  win  without  blood,  you  will  want  to  go.  If  we 
assault,  your  Indians  may  need  looking  to.  You  are  all 
powerful  with  them.  Not  for  Canada,  would  I  have  a 
prisoner  harmed." 

"  Only  win,  General ;  only  win  and  we  will  be  with 
you.  Tecumseh  will  control  his  warriors ;  don't  fear  on 
that  score." 

Then  they  parted  for  the  night. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

MISSING. 

THAT  Saturday  saw  the  end  of  two  busy  days  of  in 
tense  planning  and  preparations  on  the  English 
bank  of  the  Detroit.  The  end  of  another  week  of  wait 
ing,  vacillation,  of  anxiety  that  became  agony,  on  the 
American  side.  Its  chief  renounced  all  effort  to  regrasp 
the  conditions  of  his  own  fate,  and  abandoned  himself  to 
what  might  happen.  Miller  with  the  4th  regulars  were 
in  the  fort.  Colonel  Findlay  and  his  militia,  the  3d 
Ohio,  with  those  of  Michigan,  were  outside.  Late  Friday 
afternoon,  Colonels  McArthur  and  Cass,  with  three 
hundred  picked  men  of  the  ist  and  2d  Ohio,  were 
hurried  off  for  a  third  attempt  to  meet  and  escort  Captain 
Brush,  his  command,  cattle  and  stores,  from  Frenchtown 
to  Detroit,  where  were  still  ample  supplies.  They  were 
started  without  rations,  which  were  to  follow  them. 
None  were  sent.  Instead  of  which,  the  next  morning,  an 
express  rider  was  hurried  after  them,  with  orders  to-re- 
turn.  He  found  them  weary  and  hungry,  bivouacked  in 
a  wide  swamp,  where  darkness  overtook  them,  when  at 
the  call  of  their  officers  they  arose  and  turned  cheerily 
back. 

At  Detroit  the  shore  batteries  were  replying  to  the 
British,  and  two  24-pounders  placed  to  sweep  the 
approach  to  the  fort.  Major  Jessup  divined  Brock's 

IOO 


Missing.  101 

landing-place,  Spring  Wells,  four  miles  below  the  fort, 
and  asked  permission  to  plant  guns  there  and  oppose 
him.  This  was  refused. 

Later  he  asked  for  150  men,  then  for  100,  to  cross  over 
and  spike  the  enemy's  guns.  The  general  would  think 
of  it,  but  came  to  no  conclusion,  and  such  of  them  as  his 
own  did  not  dismount  boomed  the  short  night  through. 
Under  its  cover,  Tecumseh  placed  his  Indians  in  the 
shelter  of  the  forest,  from  the  landing  to  the  rear  of  the 
town,  to  cut  off  a  possible  retreat.  And  so  the  August 
night  wore  on.  The  next  day  was  not  to  be  a  day  of  rest, 
a  Sabbath  of  any  kind. 

In  the  vanishing  twilight  of  that  dawn,  the  English 
crossed.  Brock  standing  erect,  conspicuous,  in  full  dress, 
in  the  bow  of  the  leading  boat,  the  most  exposed  man  of 
the  expedition ;  a  third  of  his  soldiers  were  militia.  He 
knew  what  eyes  would  be  upon  him  from  the  wooded 
bank.  His  chivalrous  bearing  was  appreciated  by 
Tecumseh. 

"  See  !  see  !  "  exclaimed  the  emulous  chief.  "  A  war 
rior  in  his  canoe,  erect,  leading  the  way  to  battle  !  "  * 

As  the  general  anticipated,  he  found  the  landing  un 
guarded,  and  no  enemy  even  to  witness  his  debarkation. 
Leisurely  his  troops  breakfasted  on  the  enemy's  ground, 
were  formed  for  the  advance,  the  commander  conspicu 
ously  alone,  many  yards  in  lead,  with  his  right  on  the 
river,  his  left  protected  by  Tecumseh.  Thus  the  high 
hearted  column  moved  to  the  attack.  It  was  a  gallant 
show,  those  eight  hundred  soldiers  in  scarlet,  in  the 
morning  sun,  with  banners  and  shining  arms, — the  men 
of  the  41  st  in  front. 

*  Chron.  of  Canada. 


IO2  The  Tory's  Daughter. 

Findlay  informed  his  commander  of  the  advance  of  his 
enemy,  and  asked  permission  to  attack  with  his  regiment 
and  the  Michigan  militia,  which  was  refused.  Instead, 
he  and  all  the  troops  outside  were  ordered  within  the 
already  crowded  fort. 

On  came  the  red  column  with  gleaming  arms,  the 
veterans  as  if  under  the  eye  of  the  Regent  in  Hyde  Park. 
On  and  on,  till  they  were  almost  within  range  of  the  24's. 
The  gunners  lit  their  linstocks.  They  were  within  range. 
The  gunners  became  restive,  eager.  The  alert  young 
officer  in  command,  his  trained  eye  measuring  the  lessen 
ing  distance,  restraining  the  soldiers  with  brandished 
saber,  saw  his  foe  almost  within  his  predetermined  range 
for  the  deadliest  effect,  turning  his  eye  to  the  fort  for  any 
signal.  Already  the  returning  McArthur  and  Cass  had 
gained  a  distant  view,  made  their  disposition  for  attack, 
and  a  vain  effort  to  communicate  with  the  fort.  They 
noted  the  ominous  silence  of  the  fort.  To  them  the 
British  army  seemed  delivered  into  their  hands.  The 
first  gun  would  be  their  signal  to  advance.  It  was  nevtr 
fired.  Instead  of  the  thunder  of  the  24/5  a  white  flag  was 
displayed  on  the  fort.  Had  the  earth  opened  they  would 
have  been  no  more  amazed.  Had  it  swallowed  them  it 
would  have  been  a  welcome  refuge. 

All  night,  all  the  morning  and  forenoon,  the  miserable 
man  called  general  at  the  fort,  gave  signs  of  sore  dis 
tress.  Away  from  possible  succor,  disappointed  by  Dear 
born,  the  woods  teeming  with  Indians,  thousands  more 
of  whom  were  hurrying  from  the  North,  fierce  O  jib  ways, 
Chippewas  and  Tawas.  Among  the  women  in  the  fort 
were  his  own  daughter  and  her  children  ;  the  fort  must 
fall  after  maddening  battle,  so  he  reasoned,  or  rather 
these  were  the  spectres  of  his  imagination,  in  his  inability 


Missing.  103 

to  reason.  He  sought  no  counsel,  spoke  no  word,  sat  on 
the  ground,  with  his  back  to  the  wall,  a  pitiable  spectacle 
of  distracted  weakness.  Finally  the  one  gun  of  the 
enemy,  which  his  own  battery  left  uncrippled  to  them,  sent 
a  solid  shot,  which  came  bounding  over  the  fort's  wall, 
dashed  into  the  officer's  house,  and  into  a  group  of  men 
and  women,  killing  two  or  three,  followed  by  the  shrieks 
of  the  surviving  women,  his  only  casualty.  This  brought 
the  end.  The  v/hite  cloth  was  at  once  displayed,  and 
the  unhappy  man's  own  son  was  hurried  forth  with  an 
offer  of  surrender. 

The  young  officer  in  command  of  the  24/5  uttered  a  cry 
of  anguish  and  dashed  his  sword  upon  the  ground.  The 
advancing  column  halted  in  amazement.  The  terms  of 
surrender,  including  the  territory  of  Michigan,  were  soon 
arranged,  and  at  twelve  meridian  the  column  advanced  to 
its  formal  conquest ;  the  solemnity  of  investiture  with  parade 
and  circumstance  to  be  celebrated  at  noon  of  the  next  day. 

The  conception  and  execution  of  his  conquest  was  a 
brilliant  and  important  stroke  of  generalship  by  the 
British  commander,  and  the  honors  becomingly  worn  by 
him.  He  appreciated  the  part  borne  by  his  ally,  which 
he  evinced  in  a  striking  manner  when  they  met  at  the 
noon  of  this  day  in  front  of  the  fort,  in  presence  of  vic 
tors  and  vanquished. 

Advancing  to  the  chief,  extending  his  hand,  he  said  : 

"  The  general  commanding  congratulates  his  brother, 
General  Tecumseh,  of  the  British  army,  on  the  success  of 
the  allies.  To  mark  my  appreciation  of  his  character 
and  conduct,  I  ask  him  to  accept  and  wear  this  from  me." 
Speaking  these  words  he  untied  the  splendid  scarlet 
silk  sash  from  his  own  person,  and  deftly  invested  the 
slender  waist  of  the  noble  figure  of  Shawanoe  with  it.  The 


IO4  The   Tory's  Daughter. 

chief  gracefully  yielded  his  person  to  the  gaudy  decora 
tion,  in  dignified  silence.  When  adjusted,  he  drew  his 
form  up,  wearing  his  crimson  cap  with  its  war  eagle's 
feather,  showing  the  prized  cincture  to  advantage,  and 
said  with  simple  grace,  his  voice  betraying  slight  signs 
of  emotion  : 

"  My  great  brother  makes  glad  the  heart  of  Tecum- 
seh."  Then  turning  to  the  Wyandot  chief,  Round-head, 
he  undid  the  sash  from  his  own  form,  saying  :  "  Here  is 
one  older  and  more  deserving ;  Round-head  should  wear 
this :  "  which  he  placed  about  the  robust  loins  of  the 
delighted  chief.  The  act  was  greeted  with  applause,  led 
by  the  admiring  Brock. 

One  thing  further.  The  politic  general  proclaimed  a 
bestowal,  so  far  as  the  power  rested  with  him,  of  the 
territory  of  Michigan  upon  his  allies.  He  retained  the 
prisoners.  Public  property  was  subject  to  division. 
The  rights  of  personal  property  to  remain  inviolate. 
The  inhabitants  and  all  non-combatants,  to  be  protected 
with  care. 

So  fell  Detroit,  the  American  army  and  flag. 

The  American  people  were  never  able  to  account  for 
this  amazing  result,  even  by  supposing  the  twin  crimes  of 
treason  and  cowardice.  There  must  be  a  third — bargain 
and  sale  for  gold.  A  wave  of  consternation,  mingled  with 
shame  and  wrath,  swept  around  the  southern  border  of 
Lake  Erie,  southerly,  startling  the  men  of  Ohio,  Ken 
tucky,  Pennsylvania,  Indiana,  and  reaching  the  Capital. 
Mr.  Madison's  government  revenged  its  own  weakness 
and  want  of  care  upon  the  head  of  its  officer,  whose  im 
becility  only  equalled  its  own.  Another  commander  had 
to  be  named.  The  eyes  of  the  nation  were  upon  one  not 
yet  discernible  by  Mr.  Madison  and  his  secretary  of  war 


Missing:  105 

(Dr.  Eustis),  who  were  to  look  for  yet  another  elderly 
fossil,  that  other  battles  and  forts  and  armies  might  be 
lost  on  Michigan  soil ;  while  the  peers  of  him  who 
surrendered  Detroit  should  be  left  to  meander  on  their 
ways,  after  their  kind. 

One,  the  youth  in  command  of  the  24/8,  did  not  answer 
the  roll-call  of  prisoners.  He  was  reported  missing. 
One  of  the  best  known  of  the  young  officers  of  the  expe 
ditionary  force,  there  was  special  inquiry  for  him,  and 
some  talk  of  his  disappearance.  Generally  it  was  sup 
posed  he  had  escaped,  and  unless  cut  off  by  the  Indians, 
would  reach  Captain  Brush  at  Frenchtown.  The  last 
certainly  known  of  him,  he  was  noticed  at  his  post  near 
the  guns,  apparently  greatly  dejected. 

"  He  was  certainly  included  in  the  surrender,"  said  an 
English  officer,  who  seemed  to  know  something  of  him, 
and  interested  in  his  fate. 

The  cross  of  St.  George  floated  peacefully  over  the  fort 
as  in  the  day  of  rightful  dominion,  won  from  St.  Louis. 
Tecumseh  remained  with  a  strong  force  of  warriors  on 
their  recovered  soil,  knowing  as  well  as  the  royal  giver 
the  vicissitudes  of  his  title.  Scarlet  guards  succeeded  the 
blue,  in  larger  numbers ;  otherwise  Detroit  appeared 
much  as  on  the  day  before.  The  warm  August  night, 
darkened  the  not  remote  forest ;  the  tender  moon  hung 
its  thin  crescent  near  the  western  horizon,  the  stars  were 
taking  their  sentinel  places  in  the  sky,  and  innumerable 
crickets  and  katy-dids  were  piping  their  shrill  notes  in 
the  meadows. 

Several  of  the  British  officers,  and  men  of  the  civil  ser 
vice,  were  permitted  to  return  to  their  quarters.  Of 
these  were  Mr.  Grayson,  Edith,  Anita,  and  two  or  three 
ladies,  wives  of  the  officers,  of  the  4131.  Mr.  Grayson 


io6  The  Tory's  Daughter. 

had,  during  the  day,  experienced  every  emotion  of  anxiety, 
triumph,  exultation,  and  supreme  satisfaction.  This 
bloodless  victory,  won  in  the  face  of  odds  and  difficulties, 
that  no  other  leader  would  have  dared  to  brave,  was  to 
him  a  heaven-sent  omen  of  the  war.  There  had  been  an 
awful  decline  in  American  manhood  in  a  single  genera 
tion,  a  little  humiliating  to  him,  of  the  same  strain.  His 
emotions  had  been  fully  shared  by  Edith,  as  women 
share  in  feelings  common  to  the  sexes.  Both  were  now 
under  the  influence  of  the  reaction  certain  to  be  experi 
enced  by  persons  of  fine  organizations.  Neither  said 
much  on  the  way  down  the  river.  Both  had  a  peculiar 
cause  for  concern,  which  to  Edith  was  a  source  of  de 
pression.  Anita,  her  constant  companion,  fell  into  her 
sister's  mood,  and  like  her  was  grave  and  silent  also. 

At  the  late  supper  of  the  returned  party,  where  Edith 
was  conspicuous,  she  was  at  her  best.  If  less  joyous  and 
gay  of  spirit  than  in  the  idyl  days  of  the  southern  woods, 
thoughtfulness  now  imparted  the  charm  of  character  to 
her  face,  which  had  rather  gained  than  lost  in  maiden 
purity  and  beauty.  Something  of  appealingness  was 
in  her  eyes,  which  many  felt,  though  they  could  not  de 
scribe.  The  gentlemen — all  friends,  admirers,  and  some 
of  them  beside  Home,  lovers  of  hers, — were  in  rollicking 
spirits,  as  loud  and  reckless  of  voice,  words,  and  manner, 
as  the  presence  of  three  or  four  women  of  position  and 
refinement  permitted.  Drunk  with  the  exhilaration  of 
success,  and  two  or  three  of  them  half  drunk  in  the  usual 
way,  there  was  boastful,  gratulatory  talk  of  the  incidents 
of  the  day,  the  prospect  of  the  war,  with  depressing  com 
ments  upon  the  character  and  conduct  of  the  enemy. 

"  Well,"  said  Robinson  (son  of  a  refugee)  to  Mr.  Gray- 
son,  "  our  countrymen  persuaded  the  royal  negotiators 


Missing.  107 

that  lakes  and  rivers  were  preferable  boundaries,  and 
the  general  has  corrected  their  blunder  of  yielding  Mich 
igan." 

"  It  was  a  blunder,  our  ever  giving  up  the  posts," 
added  Glegg.  "  Now  we'll  man  Fort  Miami.  We  built 
that,  did  we  not,  Mr.  Grayson  ? " 

"  Dr.  Gray,  of  Ohio, — permit  me  to  correct  you,  Glegg," 
said  McDonald,  which  produced  a  laugh,  in  which  the 
subject  of  the  pleasantry  slightly  participated. 

"Governor  Simcoe  built  it  in  '93,  mainly  to  defend 
against  the  north-western  tribes,  old  allies  of  the  French 
who  had  a  post  there,"  he  replied  to  Glegg.  "  Later  we 
used  it  to  countenance  them,"  he  added. 

"Or  if  Mr.  Grayson  will  permit,  to  discountenance 
them,"  added  Home.  "  When  they  were  defeated  and 
pursued  by  the  Americans  at  the  Rapids,  they  found  the 
fort  shut  in  their  faces,  with  the  words  from  the  com 
mandant,  '  Go  away,  my  children,  you  got  so  much  paint 
on  your  faces,'  as  Little  Turtle  rendered  it,"  followed  by 
another  laugh. 

"  It's  a  wonder  old  Wayne  didn't  storm  it,"  said  Rob 
inson. 

"He  would,  had  the  Indians  been  admitted,"  added 
Muir. 

"  Our  countrymen,  as  you  call  them,  Mr.  Robinson, 
were  content  with  a  line  south  of  the  St.  Lawrence ;  we 
will  give  them  one  from  the  south  end  of  Lake  Michigan 
to  the  Maumee.  They  may  be  glad  to  take  it  now,"  said 
Grayson.  "Tecumseh  may  insist  on  the  Ohio  though. 
How  he  does  despise  the  Americans  !  "  he  added. 

"  No  wonder  he  despises  'em  !  As  we  have  already 
taken  so  much,  why  not  claim  the  Ohio?  They'll  con 
sent,"  said  Home. 


io8  The  Torys  Daughter. 

"  If  they  don't,  by  Jove,  the  general  will  take  the  whole 
an'  give  'er  to  old  Round-head,"  piped  in  a  clerk. 

"Yes,  and  then  clean  out  old  granny  Dearborn,  and 
hand  New  York  over  to  young  Brant  and  the  Mohawks," 
added  another. 

"  All  in  good  time,  boys,"  said  Evans.  "  I  presume 
this  little  matter — which  took  him  three  days — off  his 
hands,  the  general  will  return,  leaving  Proctor  in  com 
mand  here.  He'll  be  a  general  soon — eh,  Home?  " 

"  He  and  General  Tecumseh.  Won't  the  Indian  show 
off  a  laced  coat,  epaulets,  and  plumed  chapeau  ?  What  do 
you  say  to  that,  Miss  Grayson  ? "  to  Edith. 

"  They  will  not  disguise  him,  Captain  Home.  What  an 
act  his  giving  the  sash  to  Round-head  was  !  That  was  a 
stroke  of  genius,"  she  replied. 

"  Not  another  man  in  the  world  would  have  thought  of 
it ;  not  even  Bonaparte,"  said  her  father. 

"  No  one  who  knew  Round-head, — would  they,  Anita  ?  " 
said  Edith,  turning  to  her  sister. 

"If  saw  him  in  his  camp — as  we  did,"  replied  the 
girl  now  improved  in  her  English,  knitting  her  dark 
brow. 

"  The  young  ladies  have  suspicions  still  I  see,"  said 
Home,  with  affected  sarcasm,  to  Mr.  Grayson. 

"And  memories,"  added  the  Saxon  maiden. 

"  By  the  way,  that  reminds  me — who  do  you  suppose  I 
saw  over  there  to-day  ? "  said  the  doomed  Home  to 
Edith.  "  The  fellow  in  command  of  the  guns  you  know ;  " 
to  McDonald.  Home  as  some  of  the  others  drank 
recklessly. 

"  Which  he  didn't  fire,"  added  a  lieutenant  of  militia. 

"Which  he  didn't  fire,"  repeated  Home. 


Missing.  109 

"  For  which  thank  God  and  his  general,"  said  Muir, 
with  real  fervor. 

"  For  once  they  concurred,"  observed  Glegg. 

"  A  really  brave  man — one  thirsting  for  gore — might 
have  said  the  word,  notwithstanding  the  flutter  of  an  old 
table-cloth,  and  that  none  of  the  cleanest,"  added 
Home. 

"That  speech  from  a  British  officer,  would  cause  sur 
prise  on  any  other  occasion,"  said  Grayson,  gravely. 

"  Had  you  sent  him  word  he  might  have  run,  as  you 
said  he  did  once,"  said  Edith  to  the  captain  playfully. 

"  Ah  !  you  have  heard  of  Captain  Dudley,  of  the  Ameri 
can  army,"  he  said,  recklessly. 

"  I  saw  him  to-day,"  she  answered. 

"  Indeed  !  You  may  know  where  he  is,"  said  Home. 

"  I  greatly  wish  I  did,"  was  her  emphatic  answer. 

"  If  you'd  seen  him  as  we  did,  while  at  ease,  you  would 
have  seen  the  funniest  specimen  of  a  cock  with  his  comb 
cut  and  feathers  down,  that  even  his  country  ever  pro 
duced,"  said  her  chief  admirer. 

"How  was  it,  Captain  ?"  asked  the  officer  of  militia. 

"Captain  Home  will  do  it  justice.  I  trust  he  will 
spare  us  now,"  said  Edith,  with  quiet  dignity,  while  Anita 
sat,  her  wide  eyes  under  her  brows  of  jet  flashing  on 
Home. 

"Was  this  Captain  Dudley  the  man  you  met  on  the 
river,  in  Ohio,  at  the  time — the  time  you  know  ? "  asked 
a  lady  friend  of  Edith. 

"He  is  the  gentleman." 

"  You  came  near — near — I've  understood — excuse  me," 
said  McDonald  to  Grayson,  wishing  to  guide  the  talk 
away  from  this  incident  of  the  day. 

"  This  is  the  young  man  who  rescued  me  from  drown- 


no  The  Tory's  Daughter. 

ing  under  circumstances  showing  he  possessed  very 
heroic  qualities,"  said  the  gentleman,  a  tremor  in  his 
voice,  moved  by  recalling  the  incident. 

"  This  occurred  in  the  presence  and  under  the  eyes  of 
the  senior  captain  of  the  41  st,  of  foot,"  added  Edith, 
in  her  serene  way. 

Home,  if  not  sobered  by  these  speeches,  was  brought 
to  an  apprehension  of  his  present  position.  His  suit  to 
Edith  had  for  months  been  the  theme  of  conversation  in 
army  circles  and  of  society  at  York.  He  now  arose  from 
his  seat  and  approached  the  perfectly  composed  young 
lady  with  an  air  of  humility. 

"Captain  Home,  before  you  say  what  you  are  about 
to,  I  will  add  one  thing.  On  the  occasion  of  last 
autumn,  without  fault  of  yours,  you  were  compelled  to 
appear  at  disadvantage  almost  as  great  as  you  do  now. 
This  American  gentleman  relinquished  his  quarters  to  us, 
slept  on  the  ground,  distinguished  us  with  care  and  atten 
tions,  conducted  us  to  the  Huron,  and  you  will  bear  him 
witness,  that  by  no  word,  act,  or  manner,  did  he  seem 
aware  that  you  had  not  shown  the  utmost  heroism.  Is 
not  this  strictly  true  ?  " 

"  It  is,"  he  replied,  in  an  abject  voice. 

"  Father,  have  I  not  spoken  truly  ?  " 

"  Truly,  my  child,"  moved  to  tears. 

"  Anita,  my  sister,  you  know  more  of  this  than  do  I. 
Does  Edith  speak  truly  ?  " 

The  Indian  girl  started  from  her  seat,  ran  to  Edith, 
clasped  her  neck  with  an  arm. 

"Truly!  truly!  My  uncle  Tecumseh  guarded  the 
young  chief,  himself  from  river  Huron,"  she  said,  her 
eyes  flashing  scorn  on  the  humiliated  officer.  Her  words 
of  Tecumseh  made  a  sensation.  Nothing  had  ever  been 


Missing.  1 1 1 

heard  of  the  matter  underlying  this  statement,  though  the 
main  incidents  of  the  mission  had  been  told  and  talked  of. 

"  Captain  Home,"  said  the  young  lady,  extending  her 
hand  to  him,  "  I  forgive  you." 

"  Miss  Grayson,  I  shall  ever  deplore  my  forgetfulness. 
Your  gracious  pardon  is  a  punishment,"  he  said,  and  said 
it  well.  Raising  the  hand  and  bending  low,  he  was  per 
mitted  to  touch  it  with  his  lips. 

The  scene  caused  some  sensation ;  two  or  three  of  the 
company,  with  tact,  led  away  from  it.  Not  wholly  from 
the  missing  American  officer,  who  for  the  time,  and  was 
long  to  remain  an  object  of  interest,  with  many  of  the 
present  enemies  of  his  country.  Some  discussion  was 
had. as  to  his  present  fortune.  Muir  thought  if  he  had 
attempted  an  escape  he  would  fall  into  the  hands  of  the 
Indians.  Grayson  said  if  they  brought  him  in,  Tecumseh 
would  at  once  liberate  him. 

The  officers  thought  if  he  escaped  after  the  surrender 
and  before  rendering  himself  a  prisoner,  he  was  guilty  of 
a  grave  military  offence.  Doubtless  Brock  would  over 
look  it.  Some  would  regret  to  see  him  fall  into  Proctor's 
hands.  He  had  declared  his  purpose  of  dealing  severely 
with  all  the  Yankees  who  fell  into  his  hands,  till  they  paid 
some  observance  to  the  rule  of  civilized  warfare. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Mr.  Grayson,  "  you  surprise  me. 
When  was  it  a  crime  for  a  prisoner  of  war  to  escape  ? 
He  may  even  slay  his  guards  to  effect  it.  These  are  the 
incidents  of  war.  In  what  worse  position  can  this  officer 
be  who  after  his  general  has  relinquished  his  command  of 
him,  and  before  ours  has  reduced  him  to  custody,  if  he 
walks  himself  off  ?  My  only  regret  at  his  escape  is,  that 
he  will  notify  the  American  advance  on  the  Raisin." 

"  Young  Elliott  will  look  out   for  that,"  replied  Muir. 


112  The   Tory's  Daughter. 

He  then  went  on  to  discuss  the  laws  of  honor,  which  bind 
an  officer  to  render  himself  a  true  prisoner,  after  which 
he  may  escape  if  he  can. 

Grayson  ridiculed  this,  unless  he  was  to  be  tried  in  a 
court  of  honor,  unknown  to  law. 

"  You  may  say  he  was  guilty  of  disobedience  to  his 
general's  orders,  who  surrendered  him.  Proctor  will 
hardly  try  him  for  that.  He  will  be  safe  with  the  Ameri 
cans,"  he  said. 

Home  would  be  sorry  to  see  him  in  Proctor's  hands, 
and  looked  up  to  meet  the  large  eyes  of  Anita  on  him. 

Then  they  separated  for  the  night.  Later,  father  and 
daughter  had  a  conversation,  in  which  Edith  related  the 
incident  of  seeing  Dudley  during  the  day.  Her  party  was 
opposite  the  fort  at  the  time  the  English  column  ap 
peared  on  its  advance.  At  the  showing  of  the  white  flag, 
they  took  a  boat  and  pushed  across.  Grayson  and  two 
or  three  gentlemen  went  on  toward  the  fort.  Edith, 
Anita,  and  two  or  three  ladies  remained  near  the  river 
below  the  fort ;  not  far  from  the  guns,  Edith  observed  the 
young  officer  without  recognizing  him,  walking  backward 
and  forward  restively.  He  finally  approached  near  where 
Anita  and  herself  were  standing,  unconscious  of  their  pres 
ence. 

"When  near  us,"  she  said,  "Anita  pressed  my  hand, 
whispering  '  Dudley,  young  chief ! '  I  never  was  so 
startled — never  can  be  again.  He  saw  us,  lifted  his  cap 
to  us,  but  said  nothing.  His  face  was  pale  and  rigid. 
He  stood  irresolutely ;  then  as  if  a  new  thought  struck  him 
he  turned  and  walked  away.  This  was  before  the  cere 
mony,  for  Anita  managed  to  tell  or  get  to  her  uncle,  that 
Dudley  was  here. 


Missing.  113 

"  Why  did  not  you  go  to  him,  and  take  him  in 
your  charge  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  could  not  move  ;  all  he  did  for  us,  our  practices 
on  him,  were  on  me.  Before  I  was  myself  he  disap 
peared.  He  could  not  approach  me  ;  all  he  had  to  do  at 
that  moment  was  to  walk  away — as  it  seems  to  me." 

"  I  deplore  his  going." 

"  What  had  he  before  him  but  long  captivity  here  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  should  have  managed  that." 

"  How  could  he  know  who  and  what  we  are  but 
enemies?  Liberty,  duty,  called  him  away.  I  am  glad  he 
has  gone — for  gone  he  has." 

"  Well,  it  is  the  one  thing  that  mars  the  otherwise  per 
fect  day.  We  shall  hear  something  more  of  this  to-mor 
row  noon,  over  there,"  added  the  father. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  want  to  be  there !  "  said  the  girl,  sadly. 
"  I  can't  bear  to  see  their  humiliation." 

"Oh,  dear!  What  must  Philip  Dudley  think  if  he  can 
see  the  strait  to  which  his  rebellion  has  reduced  his 
son  ?  "  cried  the  father. 

"  His  son  ?  Do  you  know,  father,  this  thing  begins  to 
look  to  me  like  an  epoch  in  human  history,  which  had  to 
be,  and  your  rebels  were  the  heroes  or  victims  of  it, 
and  not  the  responsible  doers  of  crime." 

"  Well,  well,  my  child,"  a  little  impatiently,  "  heroes  or 
victims,  their  doings  bore  to  them  the  bitter  fruit  of  this 
da)' — to  them  and  their  children — the  first  of  unnum 
bered  similar  days.  I  would  save  this  child,  God 
knows." 

"  I  know  you  would,  and  I  shall  fervently  pray  that 
all  may  be  ruled  for  his  true  best  good,  as  I  believe  it 
will  be." 

Then  with  a  silent  kiss  she  withdrew. 
8 


H4  The  Torys  Daughter. 

At  the  ceremony  of  the  next  noon,  Captain  Dudley 
was  not  present,  nor  did  anything  transpire  of  his  where 
abouts  or  fortune.  If  any  of  the  red  allies  had  informa 
tion  of  him  it  did  not  reach  the  public. 


CHAPTER  VII. 
THE  SHAWANOE'S  GIFT. 

DUDLEY  when  ordered  to  the  expedition  into  Can 
ada,  was  assigned  to  command  the  small  body  of 
dragoons,  a  part  of  it.  On  the  return  to  the  American 
side  of  the  Detroit,  his  horses  were  idle,  and  he  had  a 
position  in  charge  of  the  guns  placed  in  the  shore  battery. 
His  familiarity  with  all  arms  made  him  available  for  any 
duty.  Naturally  his  association  was  with  Miller  and 
his  officers.  He  was  well  liked  by  McArthur,  Cass  and 
Findlay,  to  whom  he  was  of  much  use  in  their  new 
duties.  He  was  aware  of  the  dissensions  between  them 
and  the  general  in  command.  He  could  not  long 
remain  blind  to  the  unfortunate  man's  faults.  He  early 
saw  that  failure  would  attend  the  enterprise.  Gay,  light- 
hearted,  alert,  showing  high  qualities,  he  was  esteemed 
by  the  men  of  both  branches  of  the  little  army. 

That  the  fort  could  be  successfully  defended,  that 
Brock  could  be  met  in  the  field,  he  had  every  confidence. 
That  his  commander  would  surrender  without  a  battle,  a 
siege,  when  .he  finally  huddled  his  men  into  the  fort,  had 
not  entered  his  head.  When  restraining  his  eager  sol 
diers  at  the  24*3  his  eye  caught  the  ghostly  gleam  of 
white,  on  the  wall  of  the  fort ;  it  was  an  illusion  of  vision, 
and  a  second  look  was  necessary.  The  apprehension  of 
its  purpose  struck  him  like  a  blow.  The  act  of  dashing 


n6  The   Tory's  Daughter. 

down  his  emblem  of  command  was  instinctive.  For  an 
instant  it  was  a  horrid  dream,  in  which  everything 
waveringly  floated.  The  advancing  red  column  flared 
and  reeled,  then  halted.  The  world  grew  steady,  and 
his  alert  mind  noted  and  knew  the  significance  of  things. 
He  saw  the  young  aid  leave  the  fort,  pass  not  far  from 
him,  and  the  aids  of  the  British  general  go  forward  to 
meet  him,  and  then  they  retired  to  arrange,  write  out,  and 
sign  the  terms. 

This  was  a  new  position  for  him ;  he  had  no  experience, 
knew  of  no  rule  for  subordinates,  when  his  chief  had 
abandoned  the  command  of  his  own  army,  and  the 
general  of  the  enemy  had  not  taken  it  up.  He  was  in 
the  transition  period.  His  first  distinct  thought  of  him 
self  was  one  of  almost  agonizing  regret  that  he  had  not 
opened  fire  on  his  enemy;  a  battle  would  then  have  been 
inevitable.  His  better  instinct  arose  against  this.  It 
would  have  been  a  useless  destruction.  Surrender  by  the 
fatuous  commander  was  inevitable.  What  was  he  to  do  ? 
He  thought  of  his  poor  men,  to  whom  he  now  turned, — 
young,  fresh,  bright,  nervous,  athletic  fellows  ;  men  to 
follow  an  officer  to  an  assault  with  cheers,  or  stand  and 
fight  steadily  and  coolly,  and  die  by  their  guns.  He  saw 
they  now  stood  ghastly  and  silent,  several  with  indignant 
tears  in  their  eyes.  Some  of  them  turned  to  him. 

"  My  brave  boys,  you  see  it  is  all  over,"  he  said.  "  The 
enemy  commands  us  now.  Stand  at  ease  and  wait  till 
they  come  for  you."  Then  he  turned  back,  picked  up  his 
sword,  replaced  it ;  unbuckling  his  belt  he  removed  it  and 
placed  it  under  his  left  arm,  walking  away  some  yards 
that  the  soldiers  might  not  see  in  his  face  signs  of  the 
distress  he  felt. 

He  took  a  rapid   survey  of  the   immediate  situation. 


The  Shawanoes  Gift.  117 

He  knew  messengers  had  been  sent  to  recall  McArthur 
and  Cass,  who  would  return,  and  turning  to  the  line 
of  their  approach  he  thought  he  saw  signs  of  their 
presence.  They  had  not  then  reached  Brush  at  French- 
town.  Means  must  be  found  to  save  him. 

The  column  of  the  enemy  advanced.  He  estimated 
their  numbers.  Terms  had  been  adjusted.  Walking, 
studying,  lost  in  thought,  he  moved  toward  the  fort,  saw 
near  him  a  group  of  three  or  four  women.  He  changed 
his  course  a  little  to  avoid  them,  drew  nearer,  looked. — 
There  stood  Edith  Gray  and  Anita !  Still  he  was  not 
greatly  surprised.  The  power  of  being  surprised  was  not 
yet  fully  restored.  He  lifted  his  hat.  Edith  was  there. 
She  was  of  the  enemy,  was  there  to  see  the  humiliation  of 
the  Americans.  A  light  flashed  back  on  the  events  of 
the  Ohio  woods  and  rivers.  He  noticed  that  she  saw 
him — made  no  note  or  sign  of  recognition,  save  a  look  of 
surprise.  He  would  not  meet  her.  She  was  some  yards 
distant.  He  would  escape.  The  thought  and  the  certainty 
of  doing  it  came  together.  He  turned  away.  The 
column  had  passed  ;  all  the  stragglers  hurried  forward. 
The  river  came  into  his  mind.  Some  one  would  guard 
the  boats.  The  armed  ships  would  have  to  be  passed. 
He  dismissed  it.  Meantime  he  moved  south-westerly 
across  the  open.  No  one  called  to  him  or  interrupted 
him.  Why  not  keep  on  ?  The  ground  was  nearly  level. 
He  passed  behind  a  breadth  of  growing  corn,  which 
covered  him  from  eyes  near  the  fort,  or  in  that  direction. 
He  had  his  watch,  a  small  compass,  a  pair  of  pocket 
pistols  and  sword,  and  wore  undress  cavalry  uniform.  Why 
not  walk  on  ?  If  seen  he  was  not  remote.  So  far  as  the 
British  soldiers  were  concerned  he  was  safe.  The  trouble 
was  the  Indians.  They  must  be  in  force  in  the  wood  he 


Ii8  The  Tory's  Daughter. 

was  approaching;  at  least  if  they  kept  pace  with  the 
column,  he  should  pass  near  their  rear.  Of  course  they 
must  by  this  time  know  of  the  surrender,  but  doubtless 
Brock  would  permit  only  a  few  of  the  chiefs  to  enter  the 
fort.  He  knew  his  old  friends  Round-head  and  Walk- 
in-the-Water  were  with  them,  who  would  remember  him. 
He  thought  it  inevitable  that  he  would  be  seen  by  some 
of  the  Indians. 

As  he  moved  now,  seemingly  uncertain,  he  came  upon  a 
sink  of  land,  thickly  grown  with  tall  ferns,  from  which  the 
summer  sun  had  drawn  the  water.  He  might  have 
avoided  it :  he  did  not  choose  to  ;  nor  did  he  linger  in 
it.  When  he  emerged  from  the  other  side,  an  acquaint 
ance  would  not  have  known  him  without  study,  and  would 
then  have  said  he  was  daft.  He  went  out  astride  his 
sheathed  sword,  like  a  small  boy,  carrying  his  plume  in 
his  hand,  wearing  his  cap  awry,  the  frond  of  a  fern  in  the 
place  of  the  plume,  his  coat  fantastically  buttoned,  and 
wearing  a  woe-begone  expression  of  face.  From  this 
point  he  moved  to  reach  the  not  remote  wood,  in  a  very 
indirect  way.  Had  he  seemed  to  want  cover,  he  had  but 
to  remain  in  the  swamp,  or  follow  it  to  the  forest  within 
an  edge  of  which  much  of  its  body  was  a  part.  Various 
impulses  seemed  momentarily  to  control  him.  A  stranger 
by  his  arms  and  dress  would  know  his  calling ;  from  his 
striking  pantomime,  he  might  have  supposed  the  disaster 
to  the  American  arms  had  stricken  him  with  madness. 
Finally  he  gained  the  wood,  and  seemed  distressed  by  it ; 
ran  out  and  looked  up  at  the  trees  in  amazement,  grew 
reconciled,  and  calmy  re-entered  the  shade,  finding  it 
grateful,  as  it  certainly  was.  After  some  solemn  and 
effective  pantomine,  consisting  in  part  of  a  reverent  ap 
peal  to  Heaven,  he  entered  the  wood,  and  walked  some 


The  Shcrcvanoe  s  Gift.  119 

distance  directly  forward,  until  he  came  upon  the  thread 
of  a  small  run  from  a  spring.  From  this  he  recoiled  as 
if  in  fear,  walked  up  and  down  its  tiny  course,  made  many 
ineffective  attempts  to  leap  it ;  finally,  with  a  bound  five 
feet  high,  he  gained  the  other  bank,  where  he  stood  a 
moment  with  uncovered  head,  and  returned  thanks  as 
for  a  wonderful  escape.  A  new  impulse  seized  him, 
under  which  he  laid  down  on  the  little  brook's  margin, 
permitting  his  feet  to  dangle  over  the  low  bank  and  bathed 
his  boots  in  its  tide. 

Whatever  may  be  said  of  his  acting,  alive  to  impres 
sions  and  refraining  from  all  examination  of  signs  or  indi 
cations,  he  was  strongly  impressed  as  by  assured  human 
presence,  and  remembered  that  by  experiment  he  had 
more  than  once  been  awakened  by  a  person  noiselessly 
entering  his  room,  their  mere  presence  acting  on  his 
sleeping  senses.  He  was  under  this  impression,  and 
labored  the  subtle  problem.  He  had  mentally  peo 
pled  the  wood  with  Indians.  This  idea  may  in  turn  have 
acted  upon  his  fancy,  rather  than  the  mere  atmosphere. 
However  he  turned  it,  the  impression  deepened.  Eyes 
of  men  were  on  him.  This  was  strengthened  by  the  air 
of  the  wood  itself.  Not  a  bird  or  squirrel  in  sight. 
Though  ripe  summer,  not  a  chipmunk  sent  his  metallic 
chirp,  however  subdued,  through  the  forest.  He  might 
as  well  await  things  here.  He  would  gladly  have  drunk 
of  the  limpid  water,  literally  at  his  feet.  Its  coolness  to 
them  did  in  a  way  refresh  him.  He  could  not  go  on 
safely  if  permitted  till  nightfall.  He  might  as  well  play 
quiescence  for  the  time,  and  await  events.  Already  the 
shadows  pointed  north-easterly,  nearly  eastward.  Some 
degrees  more  southwardly  must  they  incline,  ere  they 
would  melt  into  the  shadow  of  the  earth  itself.  He  was 


I2O  The   Tory's  Daughter. 

certain  more  than  one  pair  of  eyes  were  on  him,  and  did 
his  best  to  realize  the  character  of  one  made  sacred  by 
the  touching  finger  of  the  Great  Spirit.  Visions  come  to 
the  thus  favored  in  sleep.  As  he  lay  thinking,  the  drowsy 
hum  of  flies  in  the  sun,  the  tinkle  of  the  rivulet,  induced 
drowsiness,  and  he  did  sleep,  really.  His  last  con 
scious  thought  was  of  Edith.  Then  came  visions  of  the 
Indians,  as  he  passed  the  margin  of  dreamland. 

He  awoke — was  it  a  fading  form  of  a  vanishing  dream, 
or  a  vanishing  Indian  of  his  awakening  ?  Whichever  it 
was,  it  disappeared,  yet  brought  the  useful  consciousness 
of  his  position.  He  drew  his  well  washed  boots  to  dry 
land  and  looked  about,  thinking  that  looking  round 
would  now  be  in  order,  as  a  visited  intellect.  The  woods 
were  full  of  the  cool  shadow  in  which  the  charm  of 
approaching  night  was  being  wrought. 

Once  or  twice  he  heard  a  shrill  note,  like  the  peep  of 
a  hylode,  answered  apparently  by  one  or  two  fainter, 
from  different  points  and  more  distant.  It  was  not  the 
unseasonableness  of  the  notes  which  suggested  they  were 
signals.  He  supposed  he  was  in  an  Indian  haunted 
forest,  and  so  interpreted  these.  He  arose,  turned  a 
little  toward  the  near  clearing,  from  which  came  the 
broad  sharp  shafts  of  outer  day,  where  his  eyes  fell  upon 
the  stately  figure  of  a  warrior  chief,  in  battle  costume, 
not  a  dozen  yards  distant.  Light  was  still  strong  under 
the  trees.  Though  a  warrior,  his  aspect  was  pacific. 
The  war  paint  had  been  washed  from  his  fine  face  and 
shaved  head  ;  though  armed,  tomahawk  and  knife  were  in 
his  belt.  When  the  eye  of  Dudley  met  his,  he  raised 
his  hands  to  show  they  were  empty  and  passing  half 
the  distance  between  them  he  paused. 

"  Dudley  ?  "  he  said  as  asking  the  name. 


Tlie  SJiawanocs  Gift.  12 1 

"  I  am  Dudley,"  answered  the  youth,  smiling. 

The  chief  advanced  to  within  two  yards,  saying — 

"  Brooch — medal  ?  "  as  if  asking. 

"  My  brother  means  the  brooch,  given  by  Shawanoe  ?  " 

The  answer  was  a  nod,  and  extending  a  hand  for  it. 

Dudley  removed  it  from  his  neck,  drew  it  from  its  case, 
and  handed  it  to  the  chief.  The  instant  it  met  his  eye 
he  ejaculated,  "  Good  !  Good  !  " 

"  Dudley  no  crazy !  Dudley  no  crazy.  Him  make 
crazy,"  he  said,  almost  laughing  at  the  idea. 

The  young  man's  answer  was  a  gay,  light-hearted 
laugh. 

"  Dudley  big  chief,  very  big  chief,"  as  if  this  flight  of 
strategy  was  a  master  stroke  of  genius. 

At  this  point,  two  fine  Indian  youths,  in  the  panoply 
of  war,  drew  near,  each  from  points  whence  came  the 
answering  signal.  They  paused  within  two  or  three 
yards,  were  approached  by  the  chief  and  shown  the 
decoration.  He  also  said  something  to  them  in  their 
dialect,  and  from  their  manner  Dudley  supposed  he  gave 
them  to  understand  the  character  he  had  assumed.  They 
stepped  a  little  nearer,  passed  around  him  in  different 
directions  to  take  in  the  full  measure  of  a  man  equal  to 
such  a  stroke. 

At  a  signal  from  the  chief  they  then  withdrew  out  of 
hearing,  when  he  approached,  and  with  his  hand  on  his 
bosom,  said  with  gravity — 

"  Wa-se-go-bo-ah — Shaw-an-oe  brother." 

"You  are  Shawanoe's  brother?"  A  nod.  "Your 
name  is  Wasegoboah  ?  " 

"  Good  !     English—'  Stand-Firm.'  " 

"  Your  name  means  stand  firm  ?  " 

"  My  brother  says  true." 


122  The   Tory's  Daughter. 

11  My  brother  glads  Dudley's  heart.  He  trusts  Stand- 
Firm,"  extending  his  hand,  which  the  chief  cordially 
took ;  as  he  did  so  he  returned  the  medal. 

"  My  brothar  go  Frenchtown  ? "  waving  his  hand  to 
the  south. 

"  Dudley  would  go  to  Frenchtown,"  he  answered. 

"Wasegoboah  go  with  Dudley.    Nothing  hurt  Dudley." 

"  Stand-Firm  go  with  Dudley  ?  "  showing  his  pleasure. 

"  When  night  come.     Tecumseh  send  Wasegoboah." 

"  Tecumseh  sent  you  to  go  with  Dudley  ?  " 

"  Good.     Anita  tell  Tecumseh." 

"  Anita  told  Tecumseh  of  Dudley  ? " 

"Um,"  with  a  nod.  "Go  by  river.  Canoe.  There, 
sun-rise." 

"  Will  reach  there  at  sunrise  ? " 

"  Um,"  with  a  nod. 

The  chief  beckoned  the  young  men  to  him,  and  had 
words  in  their  tongue  with  them,  when  they  immediately 
started  together,  and  moved  away  noiselessly  toward  the 
river.  The  chief  made  a  motion  of  his  hand  toward  the 
deeper  wood,  and  Dudley  readjusted  his  dress,  save  re 
placing  the  plume  in  his  hat,  belted  his  waist,  and  with 
his  sheathed  sword  in  his  hand,  the  two  passed  300  or  400 
yards  into  the  forest  where  they  came  upon  the  basin  of 
a  spring,  about  which  were  signs  of  the  recent  presence 
of  men,  where  they  halted  till  night  became  confirmed 
in  the  wood.  Here  the  chief  produced  from  an  opening 
into  the  hollow  of  a  tree,  a  calabash  shell,  with  which 
Dudley  supplied  himself  with  water ;  also  a  liberal  parcel 
of  roasted  venison  and  bread,  when  for  the  first  time  he 
learned  how  very  hungry  and  thirsty  he  was.  Refreshed 
he  now  arose  to  commence  the  journey. 

Evidently   the   guide    intended   to   avoid   observation, 


The  Shawanoes  Gift.  123 

using  the  cover  of  the  wood  where  practicable.  They 
moved  south-easterly,  and  when  they  emerged  into  the 
open,  Dudley  saw  by  the  line  of  mist  that  the  river  was 
near.  They  crossed  the  road  leading  south,  and  ap 
proached  it  above  the  landing-place  of  the  invaders  of 
the  morning.  At  the  wooded  margin  of  the  Detroit, 
Wasegoboah  sounded  the  note  which  first  attracted  Dud 
ley  in  the  forest,  and  was  answered  from  just  below. 
Here  they  found  the  young  warriors  of  that  adventure 
standing  by  a  small  canoe,  which  was  at  once  placed  in 
the  slow  moving  water  of  the  shore.  Dudley  bent  over 
to  examine  the  craft.  It  was  what  he  supposed,  one  of 
the  famous  birch  barks,  and  daylight  showed  it  to  be  of 
rare  workmanship,  beaded  at  the  gunwale  and  otherwise 
ornamented  ;  a  shallop  fit  for  a  forest  princess.  The 
young  man  silently  took  his  place  in  it,  showing  in  this 
the  purpose  of  his  inspection.  His  friends  saw  that  he 
was  familiar  with  their  craft.  His  position  was  such, 
that  with  the  chief  in  the  stern  the  bubble-like  shell 
would  be  best  freighted  for  its  voyage.  He  beckoned 
the  youths  to  his  side  and  placed  in  the  hand  of  each  an 
equal  portion  of  the  silver  coin  on  his  person,  the  chief 
took  his  place  with  his  paddle,  and  the  canoe  was  sent 
from  the  shore.  The  little  thing  held  her  way  till  the 
middle  of  the  river  was  gained,  when  its  prow  was  turned 
southward,  and  the  strong  current  bore  it  like  a  boat  of 
condensed  foam  toward  Lake  Erie.  Not  far,  and  they 
swept  past  the  frowning  battery  of  the  grim  looking 
Queen  Charlotte,  and  a  little  lower  the  taut  Lady  Pre- 
vost  was  passed.  If  seen  in  turn  the  boat  was  not  hailed. 
Had  it  been,  there  was  the  smallest  danger  of  its  being 
hit  by  shot  and  none  of  its  capture. 

Passing   these    and  gaining  the  solitude  of  the  lower 


124  The  Tory's  Daughter. 

reaches  of  the  river,  the  hitherto  silent  Wasegoboah  said 
in  the  way  of  the  natives — "  My  brother  sleep."  Dudley 
found  a  blanket  for  his  use.  He  stretched  himself  as 
well  as  the  dimensions  of  the  boat  permitted  and  resigned 
himself  to  sleep. 

There  came  through  his  brain  a  rapid  survey  of  the 
two  last  months,  the  events  of  which  now  took  their 
proper  places  in  perspective,  of  which  the  deed  of  this 
last  day  was  the  fitting  end.  His  mind  lost  its  grasp. 
Edith,  with  the  startled  expression  worn  at  their  meeting 
of  the  forenoon,  was  present  with  him,  bringing  thoughts 
of  the  Huron  and  her  father's  mission  there.  He  would 
banish  it.  He  looked  up  to  the  far  off  stars  of  the  warm 
night  sky.  The  swirl  of  the  water  from  the  canoe's  prow 
sent  its  low  monotone  to  his  ear,  and  there  were  the  notes 
and  calls  of  the  nocturnal  aquatic  birds  and  animals  from 
the  marshes  and  reedy  margins  of  the  river,  under  the 
shadow  of  the  forest.  These  grew  indistinct  in  his  be 
numbed  senses  and  he  slept. 

When  they  reached  the  lake,  he  awoke  and  used  the 
the  second  paddle  until  the  boat  was  hidden  under  the 
bank  of  the  Raisin.  In  the  light  of  the  morning,  Dudley 
amused  himself  with  making  inscriptions  with  a  pencil 
on  the  bark  inside  the  boat.  At  the  point  of  concealment 
he  parted  with  his  faithful  guide,  who  carried  with  him 
full  evidence  of  the  youth's  gratitude,  as  well  as  messages 
of  thanks  to  Shawanoe  and  Tecumseh  ;  also  specially  to 
the  Indian  maiden,  Anita.  He  reached  Brush's  quarters 
an  hour  in  advance  of  Captain  Elliott,  the  half-blood  son 
of  Colonel  Elliott,  Indian  superintendent.  Brush,  with 
a  opmpany  of  militia  cavalry  had  everything  in  readiness 
for  departure,  if  approached  by  a  superior  force,  or  for 
fight  if  the  numbers  made  it  prudent.  His  cattle  were 


The  Shaivanoes  Gift.  125 

soon  on  the  way  toward  distant  Urbanna,  across  the 
swampy  divide  between  the  basin  of  the  lakes  and  "the 
valley  of  the  Ohio.  The  British  officer  came,  with  merely 
a  guard,  to  receive  the  submission  of  Brush,  and  conduct 
him,  his  stores  and  party,  to  Detroit.  Brush  laughed  at 
him.  Learning  that  the  pleasant  looking  young  officer 
Avith  Brush  was  his  informant  of  the  surrender  and  the 
leading  conditions,  he  knew  he  must  be  the  missing 
Captain  Dudley,  now  a  personage  of  interest  in  both 
armies.  He  claimed  him  as  a  prisoner,  and  was  laughed 
at  again.  He  then  delivered  the  letter  he  bore  from 
McArthur  and  Cass,  and  truculently  threatening  Dudley 
if  he  ever  fell  into  British  hands,  he  turned  back  from  his 
"sleeveless  errand." 

The  escape  of  Dudley  remained  one  of  the  mysteries 
of  the  British  army  in  Canada.  The  exploit  and  the 
service  it  enabled  him  to  perform,  gained  for  him  a  credit 
which  he  felt  was  not  his  due.  Light  of  heart  and  gay 
of  spirit,  he  was  nevertheless  introspective.  His  modesty, 
his  sense  of  justice,  made  him  exacting  of  himself,  and 
nothing  was  more  distasteful  to  him  than  praise  unde 
served. 

Brush  escaped  with  the  public  property.  Brock  and 
Tecumseh  knew  the  uselessness  of  pursuit,  with  many 
hours  and  forty  miles  the  start,  and  commanded  as  the 
enemy  would  now  be.  Unquestionably  Brush's  force 
never  having  become  a  part  of  the  army  at  Detroit,  were 
justly  held  by  Dudley  not  within  the  terms  of  the  capitu 
lation.  A  few  of  his  men  were  sick  and  unequal  to  the 
march,  and  these  Elliott  conducted  to  Detroit  as  prisoners 
of  war. 

With  no  superior  officer,  Dudley  reported  directly  to 
the  war  office,  and  meanwhile  offered  his  services  to 


126  The   Torys  Daughter. 

Harrison,  who  gladly  accepted  and  placed  him  upon  his 
staff,  of  which  he  soon  became  the  chief,  a  name  then 
unknown,  with  the  rank  of  major.  His  first  service  was 
in  the  expedition  for  the  relief  of  Fort  Harrison,  of 
mounted  militia  from  Kentucky.  He  commanded  the 
advance  on  the  last  day's  march.  The  Indians  did  not 
risk  a  battle  with  him.  His  arrival  was  opportune.  The 
palisades  and  block  houses  were  burnt  away  on  one 
side,  the  garrison  at  the  last  gasp,  worn  and  exhausted 
by  their  persistent  and  desperate  defence. 

Harrison,  meantime,  had  been  appointed  a  brigadier- 
general  of  the  regular  service,  but  limited  to  a  field  of 
command  that  made  him  hesitate  to  accept  it.  He 
followed  the  relieving  expedition  of  Ohio  troops,  which 
raised  the  siege  of  Fort  Wayne,  where  he  was  joined  by 
Dudley. 

The  new  general  of  the  north-western  army,  which 
the  genius  of  Harrison  called  into  existence,  made  his 
appearance  at  Fort  Wayne  soon  after  the  arrival  of 
Harrison,  who  turned  the  command  over  to  him.  Win 
chester  was  a  brave  man,  a  soldier  of  the  old  army,  a 
gentleman  of  the  old  school.  His  manners  and  bear 
ing  were  unendurable  to  the  hunter  and  pioneer  volun 
teers,  who  expected  to  serve  under  Harrison,  and  who 
now  peremptorily  refused  to  be  led  by  Winchester. 
They  mutinied,  in  fact,  and  it  was  only  after  an  effective 
speech  from  the  victor  of  Tippecanoe,  a  master  of  popu 
lar  oratory,  as  of  the  popular  heart,  that  they  consented 
to  recognize  him  as  their  general.  Winchester  offered 
Dudley  the  first  position  on  his  staff.  He  felt  free  to 
choose,  and  remained  with  Harrison. 

As  he  anticipated,  the  cabinet  at  Washington,  better 
advised,  superceded  Winchester  with  the  Kentucky  gen- 


The  Shawanoe  s  Gift.  127 

eral  of  militia,  who  now  accepted  his  national  appointment. 
The  confidence  now  reposed  in  him  seemed  boundless, 
and  he  was  formally  invested  with  discretionary  powers 
in  his  department,  only  second  to  those  of  Washington 
in  the  war  of  independence. 

Winchester  was  soured  by  the  treatment  he  received. 
He  had  no  knowledge  of  the  kind  of  war  now  being 
waged  ;  he  soon  became  a  sharp  critic  of  his  commander, 
and  never  gave  him  cordial  support  or  effective  aid. 

For  more  than  organization  and  preparation,  power 
came  to  the  new  general  too  late  for  a  campaign  to  re 
capture  Detroit  and  humble  Maiden,  the  present  season. 

The  department  of  the  North-west  was  the  limitless 
region  from  the  west  line  of  New  York,  westward.  In 
the  main,  a  level,  swampy,  roadless,  bridgeless  wilder 
ness.  Under  the  Autumn  rains  the  streams  were  swollen 
and  the  spongy  soil  ceased  to  have  a  practicable  bottom 
for  transportation  purposes.  Not  a  man  or  horse,  not 
a  gun  or  pound  of  stores,  could  be  used  at  the  point  of 
impact,  that  did  not  have  to  make  the  transit  of  this 
wide  expanse.  The  lake,  as  will  be  remembered,  was 
closed  to  the  Americans. 

Once  the  new  commander  saw  a  gleam  of  chance  to 
recapture  Detroit.  The  means  of  approach — the  frozen 
river — were  too  precarious,  the  men  for  the  assault  too 
remote,  and  Dudley  saw  it  vanish  as  impracticable. 

General  Brock  confirmed  his  promise  of  protection  to 
the  people  of  Detroit  and  Michigan,  turned  the  com 
mand  over  to  Proctor  with  instructions,  and  with  a  few 
of  his  personal  staff  sailed  on  the  "  Hunter  "  for  his  threat 
ened  Niagara  border  the  22d  of  August.  Nine  days 
were  sufficient  to  destroy  an  army  more  numerous  than 
his  own,  swallow  up  a  large  province,  and  paralyze  the 


128  The   Tory's  Daughter. 

national  power  of  his  enemy  in  the  North-west,  till  winter 
should  intervene. 

He  returned  with  plans  of  sweeping  the  American 
border  from  lake  to  lake,  to  find  the  armistice  which  set 
him  free  still  continued  by  the  American  general,  spite  of 
the  orders  of  his  Government  annulling  it. 

The  famous  British  "  Orders  in  Council "  were  the 
final  cause  of  the  American  declaration  of  war,  and  though 
revoked  two  months  before  the  date  of  that  Act,  slow 
winged  news  of  it  did  not  reach  America  until  a  month 
after  its  passage ;  whereupon  Prevost  and  Dearborn, 
whose  war  hardly  arose  to  a  breach  of  the  peace,  sus 
pended  the  declaration  of  the  war.  Dearborn  entered 
into  this  convention,  in  face  of  his  orders,  to  demonstrate 
against  his  enemy  in  aid  of  his  Western  colleague,  and 
excused  himself  later  on  the  ground  that  he  did  not 
know  the  Niagara  frontier  was  a  part  of  his  department. 

Brock,  with  his  Western  laurels  fresh  and  bloodless, 
met  the  American  army  of  invasion,  and  fell  on  Queens- 
town  Heights,  leading  a  charge,  where  he  encountered 
the  younger  Scott,  two  months  from  the  day  of  his  landing 
at  Maiden.  His  enemy  paid  his  entire  army  of  invasion 
for  this  life,  and  gained  in  the  bad  exchange  of  war.  Yet 
Brock's  fall  was  deplored  by  his  slayers  as  a  common 
loss. 

Brock  required  that  Mr.  Grayson  and  Edith  should 
remain  at  Maiden.  He  desired  their  influence  with 
Proctor  and  Tecumseh.  He  knew  an  early  and  decided 
effort  would  be  made  to  recover  Detroit  and  capture 
Maiden.  He  could  spare  no  soldiers.  They  must  re 
cruit  from  the  Indian  tribes.  Pressed  in  its  awful  life 
struggle  with  Napoleon,  England  could  not  send  a  man 
to  America.  WTith  Tecumseh  to  command  them,  he 


The  SJiawanoes  Gift.  129 

employed  the  savages  with  less  reluctance.  He  knew 
Proctor's  character,  but  choice  of  a  commander  was 
not  his. 

Canada  West  was  a  remote  region,  and  when  winter 
closed  Lake  Erie,  entirely  isolated.  Its  only  connection 
then  with  its  capital,  York  (Toronto),  was  by  a  road  from 
the  Thames  mouth,  two  hundred  miles  through  a  gloomy 
forest,  striking  the  head  of  Lake  Ontario  at  Burlington 
Heights. 

Save  Muir's  ineffective  demonstrations  against  the 
American  posts,  an  Indian  incursion  at  Sandusky,  another 
into  Kentucky,  the  arming  and  organization  of  the  hunters 
and  pioneers,  the  season  closed  without  real  war  in  the 
North-west. 

In  January,  Dr.  Eustis  made  way  for  Major  Armstrong 
(author  of  the    Newburg   letters)  in  the  war  office,  and 
the  Americans  resolved  to  capture  Lake  Erie. 
9 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

EDITH. 

EDITH  hoped  that  Maiden  and  Windsor  would  be 
enlivened  with  the  presence  of  Mrs.  Proctor,  and 
two  or  three  ladies  who  would  accompany  her.  In  this 
she  was  disappointed.  For  her  the  winter  closed  in  with 
unrelieved  gloom. 

She  had  been  educated,  had  taught  herself  to  regard 
the  unfortunate  king  with  the  self-denying  devotion  of 
Flora  .Mclvor  for  the  young  Pretender.  To  her  the 
loyalty  of  those  who  bore  the  livery  of  the  crown  seemed 
cold  and  uncertain,  merely  a  professed  sentiment  loosely 
worn  for  personal  ends.  Not  the  one,  as  with  her,  or 
the  strongest  of  many  incentives  to  action.  With  clever 
intellect  and  strong  lines  of  character  her  vision  had 
been  narrow.  She  saw  everything  through  the  atmos 
phere  of  her  education  and  self-dedication,  not  without 
much  refracting  power  upon  such  rays  of  light  as  sur 
rounded  most  objects  brought  within  reach  of  her  vision. 
If  she  had  beauty,  attraction,  intellect,  she  set  no 
woman's  value  on  them  as  means  of  winning  admiration, 
even  love,  for  herself.  That  they  might  serve  such  a 
purpose  had  not  occurred  to  her. 

For  the  five  or  six  years  of  her  maturing  life,  the  grow 
ing  differences  between  the  kindred  nations,  in  the  father's 
judgment,  were  the  means  in  the  hands  of  Heaven  of  con- 

130 


Edith.  131 

ducting  to  inevitable  war.  Their  duty  was  to  strengthen 
the  hand  of  the  king. 

In  his  heart  still  rankled  the  unmitigable  sense  of  per 
sonal  wrong.  The  heart  of  the  girl,  however  mistaken, 
was  influenced  by  lofty  and  pure  sentiment.  That,  as  she 
supposed,  could  be  only  won  by  loyalty  as  unselfish  as  her 
own,  illustrated  by  great  service  and  gallant  exploit.  She 
had  seen  but  one  man  she  could  love.  She  never  thought 
of  him  as  a  possible  lover.  She  had  in  no  way  tested  her 
power  to  love.  This  hero  was  the  general  who  almost 
commanded  her  to  remain  in  Canada  West.  She  did  not 
like  Proctor ;  he  was  coarse  fibred,  loud  voiced,  boastful, 
might  be  brutal,  even  cowardly.  She  once  tried  to  look 
kindly  on  Home.  She  felt  she  could  never  love  him. 
Recently  she  regarded  him  with  increasing  indifference — 
more  than  indifference.  Something  had  happened  in  the 
Ohio  woods,  now  a  year  ago,  very  strange  it  seemed,  re 
vealing  unsuspected  secrets  of  her  own  nature,  showing 
that  whatever  she  was  she  had  the  common  and  cher 
ished  qualities  of  her  sex.  This  woman  side  of  herself, 
or  this  side  of  this  woman,  stood  to  her  inner  view  in 
Rembrandt  light  and  shadow,  a  little  startling.  She  also 
found  that  the  old  cherished  objects  of  reverence,  de 
votion,  and  labor  had  received  a  strange  new  light,  which 
not  only  diminished  their  importance,  but  showed  them 
in  changed  aspects. 

Her  father  suddenly  disappeared  in  the  black  water, 
drawn  under  the  drift.  She  realized  she  might  never 
even  see  his  form  again,  when  a  face  broke  from  the 
drowning  flood  and  laughed  in  hers,  and  strong  arms 
bore  up  to  her  the  lost. 

The  rescuer  did  not  ask  her  love,  confront  her  as  seek 
ing  it.  He  set  no  value  on  his  service,  and  seemingly 


132  The   Tory's  Daughter. 

little  on  himself.  One  to  do  things  naturally,  as  belong 
ing  to  him  to  do, — not  for  reward ;  they  were  his  work, 
and  so  there  was  nothing  to  be  said.  She  was  very  sure 
were  she  a  man  she  would  do  things  this  way ;  that  she 
would  never  approach  a  woman  as  demanding  her  love. 
He  was  in  her  heart  from  that,  first  as  something  precious, 
like  the  dearest  girl — no,  not  a  girl,  but  like  a  girl.  He 
was  a  virile,  heroic  man ;  more  than  any  possible  girl  a 
thing  to  love,  to  be  near,  yet  to  be  coyly  shy  of ;  to  be 
afraid  of  with  that  tremulous  fear  which  was  not  fear  at 
alP.  She  could  not  describe  it.  It  was  very  sweet  to 
have.  She  wondered  if  he  had  something  of  this  same 
feeling  toward  her  ?  Of  course  he  had,  because  it  was 
hers  toward  him.  Of  course  one  could  not  have  this 
alone, — what  precious  logic. 

For  some  time  her  thought  was, — this  is  not  love  : 
love  blinds,  fascinates,  intoxicates,  has  the  uncanny  thing 
of  magic.  This  was  inspiring,  lifting  one's  soul  into 
purest  white  light,  where  God  dwelt ;  not  selfish,  not  akin 
to  that  passion  of  the  senses  called  love.  When  her 
mind  saw  it  clearly,  she  had  no  doubt  of  what  it  was, — a 
pure  and  exalted  love.  Of  course  nothing  as  common 
lovers  could  ever  come  of  it.  They  were  enemies — might 
never  see,  or  even  hear  of  each  other.  Mountains,  seas, 
continents,  divided  them.  No  matter,  she  was  glad — 
glad  they  had  met ;  glad  of  her  own  love.  It  was  its 
own  priceless  recompense,  bringing  her  nothing  but 
good. 

Then  came  the  war  with  some  rekindling  of  the  Joan 
of  Arc.  Brock  came  with  that  day  of  glory  and  triumph. 
It  brought  that  vision  of  him,  looking  as  she  would  have 
him  look,  bringing  all  the  recalling  and  introspection 
with  which  she  had  grown  familiar. 


Edith.  133 

She  was  glad  of  his  escape  for  many  reasons.  Largely 
that  he  was  free,  was  with  his  friends,  had  gained  much, 
as  she  thought,  deserved  credit.  Certainly  his  reputation 
should  not  suffer  in  the  British  army.  One  thing  had 
been  settled  by  the  Ohio  mission ;  she  should  never  wed. 
She  now  knew  there  could  be  but  one  man  in  the  world 
to  whom  she  could  ever  be  wife  and  that  could  never  be. 

The  thing  that  in  any  way  reconciled  her  to  remain  at 
Maiden,  beyond  her  diminished  sense  of  duty,  was  the 
presence  of  Tecumseh,  and  possibly  an  unconscious 
sense  of  the  nearness  of  this  other,  which  she  never 
grasped  or  made  mental  note  of. 

The  fall  of  Brock,  Edith's  one  hero  of  the  British  army 
in  America,  greater  than  Wolf, — as  she  regarded  him, — was 
to  her  an  irreparable  blow.  On  his  fate,  as  she  supposed, 
the  war  on  the  northern  frontier  of  the  States  must 
depend  in  large  measure.  The  news  benumbed  her. 
She  had  fancied  his  was  a  charmed  life.  The  hail  of 
battle  was  to  leave  him  untouched.  He  was  stricken, 
and  Canada  was  helpless.  Nobody  was  left  but  a  herd 
of  ignoble  men,  with  no  mastering  hand  to  wield  and 
make  them  heroic.  The  drums  were  muffled,  the  banners 
draped  ;  the  old  soldiers  wept.  The  swaggering  Proctor, 
grim  old  Colonel  St.  George,  the  colonels,  the  majors,  and 
captains  were  ghastly  and  silent.  When  Harrison  came, 
as  come  he  would,  who  would  lead  the  soldiers  to  meet 
him  ? 

There  was  but  one  now,  king  born  of  the  woods,  whose 
ability  as  a  leader  the  English  were  yet  to  learn,  and 
learning  were  yet  to  contemn,  because  a  barbarian,  and 
born  out  of  England.  If  incapable  of  profiting  by  his 
genius,  he  regarded  them  with  a  lofty  scorn.  He  did  full 
justice  to  the  fighting  qualities  of  the  British  soldier.  He 


134  The   Tory's  Daughter. 

held  the  tactics  of  civilized  war  in  slight  esteem,  and  he 
despised  Proctor  nearly  as  much  as  he  did  the  Ameri 
cans. 

War  was  now  supposed  to  be  postponed  until  spring. 
It  was  understood  at  Maiden  that  the  Americans  would 
attempt  to  dispute  the  supremacy  of  the  lake,  the  next 
campaign,  and  yet  in  the  frozen  heart  of  the  winter  was 
to  occur  an  incident  of  the  war,  itself  very  war,  that  was 
to  startle  the  heart  and  nerves,  and  darken  the  life  of 
Edith,  more  than  anything  within  the  circle  of  her  years — 
except  the  death  of  Brock — and  although  it  was  to  gild 
the  royal  arms  with  triumph,  and  win  a  general's  epaulets 
for  Proctor,  it  would  bring  into  relief,  painfully,  some  of 
the  defects  of  his  character  and  generalship. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

VERY   WAR. 

THE  oft  mentioned  river  Raisin,  then  a  beautiful 
forest  stream,  runs  into  the  west  side  of  Lake 
Erie,  near  its  head.  On  this,  built  both  sides  of  it  and  two 
miles  from  its  mouth,  was  the  pretty  village  of  Frenchtown, 
composed  of  thirty  dwellings  ;  it  was  forty  miles  southerly 
from  Detroit  and  eighteen  miles  south-westerly  from 
Maiden.  It  was  well  built  for  the  pioneers'  time.  Its 
people  were  thrifty,  had  small,  well-cleared,  and  cultivated 
farms  and  gardens,  fruitful  orchards,  and  ornamental 
shrubbery.  It  was  on  the  road  of  approach  from  San- 
dusky  as  from  the  forts  of  the  upper  Maumee  to  Detroit, 
and  had,  as  will  be  remembered,  a  small  stockade  con 
structed  of  palisades  or  pickets,  round  sections  of  tree 
trunks,  set  firmly  in  the  ground,  and  rising  twelve  or 
fifteen  feet  above  its  surface,  pointed  at  the  tops.  This 
was  the  general  character  of  a  stockade.  A  larger, 
stronger  fortification  had  well  constructed  block  houses, 
at  least  at  the  angles — this  was  of  the  simplest  form,  with 
one  small  block  house. 

Upon  the  fall  of  Detroit,  although  within  the  territory 
of  Michigan,  Captain  Elliott  received  the  submission  of 
the  inhabitants  and  promised  them  protection, — a  prom 
ise  never  kept. 

It  was  the  southern  outpost  of  the  British  ;  Major  Rey- 

135 


136  The   Torys  Daughter. 

nolds,  of  the  provincial  militia,  was  in  command,  with  two 
companies,  and  400  Indians,  mostly  Wyandots,  under 
Round-head  and  Walk-in-the-Water ;  and,  as  the  British 
and  Canadians  say,  there  were  also  in  the  neighborhood 
about  200  of  the  great  Indian  trader  Dickson's  Indians 
from  the  upper  lakes,  for  whom  the  British  were  not 
responsible.  However  this  may  have  been,  the  people  of 
Frenchtown  suffered  greatly  from  hostile  invasions  ;  Rey 
nolds  could  not  or  would  not  protect  them.  Repeated 
applications  to  Proctor  were  ineffective,  and  in  their  de 
spair  they  sent  two  deputations  in  the  dead  of  winter,  in 
quick  succession,  to  the  nearest  American  post,  appealing 
for  aid  and  defence  against  the  outrages  to  which  they 
were  subject. 

At  the  junction  of  the  Auglaze  with  the  Maumee  was 
then  situated  Fort  Defiance.  The  old  fort  was  built  by 
Wayne  ;  General  Harrison  built  a  new  and  stronger  work, 
the  past  Autumn.  Here  General  Winchester,  who 
changed  its  name  to  his  own,  was  spending  the  winter 
with  800  young  Kentuckians,  in  some  respects  the  flower 
of  the  State.  He  was  able  to  maintain  hardly  a  sem 
blance  of  discipline  over  these  chivalrous  young  men, 
with  whom  he  lived  or  spent  his  time,  rather  than  com 
manded.  It  was  to  these  the  Frenchtown  deputations 
appealed.  Winchester  referred  them  to  the  Kentuckians 
in  mass  meeting,  who  unanimously  resolved  to  chastise 
their  oppressors  and  protect  them,  notwithstanding  the 
distance  and  season,  and  the  nearness  of  Frenchtown  to 
Maiden.  A  detachment  was  hurried  to  the  Raisin,  which 
fell  upon  the  enemy,  and  after  a  sharp  battle  forced 
them  and  their  Indians  two  miles  into  the  woods.  The 
Canadians  tenaciously  contested  every  tree  and  rood 
of  ground.  So  near  the  enemy  the  Americans  knew 


Very   War.  137 

they  would  be  speedily  assaulted  by  Proctor  with  an 
overwhelming  force,  unless  they  retreated.  They  came 
to  protect ;  they  must  remain.  The  battle  over  they 
retired  to  Frenchtown,  took  possession  of  the  stock 
ade,  and  hurried  messengers  to  Winchester  for  rein 
forcements.  The  general,  with  nearly  the  residue  of  the 
Kentucky  contingent,  hastened  to  their  aid.  He  reached 
the  exposed  point  just  at  nightfall  of  the  day  after  the 
battle.  The  stockade  was  on  the  north  side  of  the  river, 
a  little  distance  from  it.  It  was  not  large  enough  to 
accommodate  all  his  force. 

The  residue  encamped  near  in  the  rear  of  it.  Having 
seen  to  the  disposition  of  the  troops,  Winchester  returned 
with  his  staff  across  the  river  half  a  mile  or  more,  to  a 
house  for  the  night.  This  was  against  the  remonstrance 
of  his  officers,  who  earnestly  requested  him  to  remain 
with  them.  He  was  a  good  deal  annoyed  in  the  evening 
by  the  report  of  the  scouts,  who  announced  the  enemy  in 
the  neighborhood  in  force.  He  laughed  in  their  faces, 
and  with  his  aids  betook  himself  to  serene  slumber.  Ere 
daybreak  he  was  wakened  by  his  own  reveille  which  was 
immediately  lost  in  the  thunder  of  Proctor's  artillery,  the 
volleys  of  his  musketry,  and  the  war-whoop  of  Round 
head's  warriors.  On  his  way  to  the  battle-field,  that 
chief  met  and  made  him  a  prisoner,  and  despoiling 
him  of  his  coat  and  boots,  he  conducted  the  late  com 
mander  of  the  north-western  army  to  Proctor. 

The  day  of  the  first  battle  was  the  anniversary  of  good 
Queen  Charlotte's  birth;  the  English  officers  and  the  elite 
of  Canada  West  celebrated  the  occasion  at  Mrs.  Draper's 
tavern.* 

*  Chronicles  of  Canada. 


138  The   Tory's  Daughter. 

Early  in  the  evening,  as  the  gayety  of  the  occasion 
began  to  sparkle,  in  strode  grim  old  St.  George,  sent  over 
to  educate  the  militia,  equipped  for  the  field,  looking  like 
a  belated  martial  Santa-Glaus  out  of  place,  and  an 
nounced  that  the  officers  were  to  be  ready  for  march  at 
four  the  next  morning.  Wild  rumor  found  itself  on  the 
wing.  Harrison  was  advancing  on  Detroit.  Antitype  of 
Napoleon's  approach,  three  years  after,  upon  the  Belgian 
capital.  The  enemy  were  to  be  met  on  his  own  soil. 

Edith  felt  constrained  to  be  present  at  the  ball,  in 
honor  of  her  royal  mistress,  a  reluctant  spectator  of  a 
joyance  she  could  not  share.  She  witnessed  the  departure 
of  the  expedition,  knew  that  Proctor  took  nearly  his  avail 
able  force,  and  was  not  a  little  anxious.  Tecumseh  was 
absent  on  a  mission  West ;  not  only  would  he  be  absent 
from  the  expected  battle,  and  victory,  but  his  restraint 
over  his  heated  warriors  would  be  lacking.  She  heard 
the  loud  voice  of  Proctor,  and  shuddered  as  she  thought 
of  the  American  wounded,  or  prisoners,  who  might  fall 
into  his  hands.  All  the  next  day  she  was  nervous  and 
anxious,  more  so  than  when  Brock  moved  to  attack 
Detroit.  In  the  morning  of  the  second,  the  day  of  the 
second  battle  of  Frenchtown,  she  induced  her  father  to 
cross  to  the  American  side  with  herself  and  Anita.  She 
had  a  fine  pair  of  horses  with  a  sleigh  and  robes.  The 
Detroit  had  been  frozen  six  weeks,  and  the  snow  was 
deep.  She  persisted  in  going  on  the  southern  road  to 
the  native  Brownstown.  There  about  noon  the  victors 
came  hurrying  back,  more  like  fugitives,  than  conquerors 
from  a  field  of  triumph.  Everything  indicated  they  had 
been  roughly  met,  though  Winchester  was  a  prisoner  and 
accompanied  the  loud-voiced  Proctor  in  a  sleigh.  Then 
came  a  considerable  body 'of  prisoners,  dejected,  silent, 


Very   War.  1 39 

the  British  wounded,  even  the  bodies  of  their  slain. 
Where  were  the  American  wounded  ?  above  all  where 
were  their  own  red  allies,  a  considerable  body  of  whom 
made  a  part  of  the  expeditionary  force  ?  and  why  was 
there  such  haste  as  if  pursued  by  a  superior  enemy  ? 

It  did  not  at  the  first  all  come  to  Edith.  Later  she 
came  to  know  more  than  enough,  much  more  than  should 
have  been.  Proctor  attacked  at  daybreak.  The  Ameri 
cans  outside  the  pickets  were  finally  overpowered,  and 
retreating  to  the  woods  were  surrounded  by  the  Indians 
and  slain  to  a  man ;  not  one  escaped.  Not  a  prisoner 
was  made. 

The  fire  from  the  stockade,  by  the  Kentucky  rifles,  was 
so  hot  and  well  directed  that  Proctor  was  compelled  to 
draw  off.  He  finally  bullied  the  captured  General  Winj 
Chester  to  send  an  order  to  the  gallant  defender  of  the 
stockade  to  surrender.  This  was  refused.  The  officer 
in  command  would  not  recognize  the  authority  of  a  supe 
rior  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  Finally,  on  a  pledge 
personally  given  by  Proctor,  of  protection  to  prisoners 
and  care  of  the  wounded,  the  Americans  grounded  arms. 
The  Indians  at  once,  in  Proctor's  presence,  began  an 
attack  on  them.  Their  American  commander  ordered 
them  to  resume  their  weapons,  when  the  British  officers 
interfered  effectively. 

Then  came  the  senseless  rumor,  no  one  ever  knew  on 
what  authority,  that  Harrison  was  at  hand,  and  Proctor 
almost  in  a  panic,  withdrew,  fancying  himself  pursued, 
though  as  English  Reynolds,  the  royal  commissary, 
naively  said — "  The  enemy  never  came  in  sight." 

Finally  Reynolds  returned  with  his  sleighs,  and  a  flag 
for  his  own  protection,  for  the  enemy's  wounded.  Edith 
would  follow  the  procession  on  the  hard  beaten  road. 


140  The   Torys  Daughter. 

As  they  approached  the  battle-field,  signs  of  its  neigh 
borhood,  as  of  the  haste  of  Proctor's  retreat,  increased. 
Near  the  town  Reynolds,  who  had  mastered  the  ghastly 
problem,  hurried  back  to  her,  and  succeeded  in  having 
her  driver  turn  her  horses'  heads  northward  again. 

Not  an  American  was  alive. 

Edith  was  told  that  this  nameless  deed,  the  dreadful 
finish,  was  the  work  of  Dickson's  Lake  Indians.  This  is 
still  asserted.  To  her  it  made  no  difference  whether 
the  allies  of  the  British  did  it,  or  savages  not  allies,  who 
were  permitted  to  do  it. 

When  it  was  reported  to  Proctor  his  only  remark 
"  Indians  are  good  Doctors,  "  was  significant  of  the 
man's  nature  as  of  his  methods  of  warfare. 
•  Though  Edith  turned  back,  knowing  only  the  general 
fact,  she  was  sick  and  depressed  beyond  what  she  had 
supposed  was  in  her  power  to  suffer.  All  the  way  back, 
as  night  deepened  in  the  wood  through  which  the  glid 
ing  sleigh  sped  its  noiseless  way,  muffled,  with  her  head 
bowed,  one  lovely  pale  dead  face  was  present  within  her, 
lying  in  the  snow  reddened  with  blood. 

This  was  war,  stripped  of  its  trappings  and  reduced 
to  its  simples. 

She  could  not  rest  on  her  return,  till  her  father,  in  an 
interview  with  one  of  the  captured  officers,  learned  that 
Dudley  was  not  at  Fort  Winchester,  but  with  General 
Harrison,  and  promoted.  It  was  a  great  relief  to  her. 
She  was  glad  on  the  whole  that  he  was  attached  to  the 
American  general's  staff ;  he  was  comparatively  safe. 
She  would  know  where  he  was  when  told  where  the  head 
quarters  of  the  enemy's  army  were.  She  thought  his 
preference  would  be  for  a  position  in  the  line.  She  knew 
that  the  personal  wish  of  an  officer  was  seldom  consulted. 


Very   War.  141 

He  would  certainly  do  his  duty  wherever  he  was.  Her 
heart  went  out  to  him  in  a  gush  of  relieved  emotion. 

Soon  the  wretched  condition  of  the  people  of  French- 
town  came  to  her  remembrance,  now  in  the  heart  of 
winter,  unprotected  by  their  countrymen,  plundered  and 
annoyed  by  their  enemies,  with  the  ghastly  scenes  of 
battle  and  blood  about  them  ;  and  she  shuddered  as  she 
remembered  that  her  woman's  hand  had  helped  to  bring 
this  upon  them.  She  talked  with  her  father,  who,  while 
he  regarded  these  calamities  as  a  just  visitation  of  Provi 
dence,  still  illogically  esteemed  it  his  duty  as  a  Christian 
to  do  what  he  might  to  mitigate  its  severity,  and  he  went 
with  her  to  Proctor,  and  procured  from  him  an  order  for 
their  removal  to  Detroit.  She  then  busied  herself  in 
securing  comfortable  abodes  for  them  in  the  town.  The 
kind-hearted  Reynolds  furnished  means  of  transportation, 
and  in  a  week  under  her  supervision  they  were  for  the 
time  housed  from  the  winter  and  Indians.  It  was  from 
these  objects  of  her  care  that  she  learned  the  details  of 
the  scenes  following  the  surrender  of  the  Americans. 
She  had  a  discussion  of  the  matter  with  Home,  who  came 
to  have  a  very  clear  understanding  of  her  estimate  of  it, 
and  an  apprehension  that  his  position  toward  her  was  not 
largely  improved. 

That  Proctor  left  Frenchtown  after  the  battle  under  the 
influence  of  an  honest  fear  of  Harrison's  approach,  can 
hardly  be  doubted.  He  even  left  the  gallant  St.  George 
bleeding  from  three  severe  wounds,  freezing  in  the  snow 
where  he  fell,  and  who  would  have  perished  but  for 
the  care  of  others.  His  victory  was  hailed  with  plau 
dits  throughout  Canada,  and  in  England.  The  Prince 
Regent  promoted  him,  the  Canadian  parliaments  gave 


142  The   Tory-s  Daughter. 

him  votes  of  thanks.  He  was  yet  to  hear  the  cry  of 
"  Frenchtown  !  " 

The  winter  wore  on,  Edith  finding  ample  employment 
in  the  care  of  her  protegees,  the  exiles  of  Frenchtown, 
who  would  require  aid  for  the  indefinite  time  until  they 
could  return  in  safety  to  their  abandoned  homes.  The 
employment  was  grateful  to  her  feelings  in  every  way ;  at 
first  undertaken  largely  from  a  sense  of  duty,  its  continu 
ance  became  a  source  of  exquisite  satisfaction,  filling  her 
heart  with  gratitude  that  she  was  enabled  to  render  the 
homeless  ones  this  service. 

Toward  March,  her  "  Knight  of  the  Forest,"  as  she 
called  the  Shawanoe,  returned.  His  mission  extended  to 
the  Sacs,  Foxes  and  even  the  more  distant  Sioux.  He 
was  shocked  at  the  report  of  the  slaughter  of  the 
wounded  prisoners.  His  honor  was  involved,  and  he 
made  enquiries  into  the  horrible  excesses  at  Frenchtown, 
the  result  of  which  in  no  way  relieved  his  own  subordi 
nates,  or  the  British  commander.  He  censured  his 
chiefs  in  the  strongest  terms — declared  he  would  sum 
marily  punish  any  repetition  of  it  in  the  future.  Proctor 
and  his  officers  were  surprised,  that  "  Now  the  thing  was 
over,  he  should  make  such  a  —  of  a  fuss  about  it ;  "  were 
the  general's  words.  Tecumseh  retorted  with  scorn,  not 
depending  on  Elliott  to  render  his  meaning.*  So  that 
matter  stood  to  a  day  in  the  near  future. 

"  You  conquer  to  murder,  I  conquer  to  save,"  were  his  reported 
words. — Anthony  Shane — Drake's  Tecumseh, 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE    FIRST   GUN. 

THE  Northern  winter  held  the  rivers  and  lakes,  the 
wide  level  sweeps  of  land,  under  its  ices  and 
snows,  till  after  mid-March.  Tecumseh  had  returned, 
with  him  came  his  brother,  and  as  spring  came  with  its 
warmth,  and  lent  its  tint  of  color  to  wood,  hill-side  and 
plain,  he  mustered  his  warriors  from  all  Michigan  and 
beyond  the  Wabash. 

The  American  general  was  glad  to  have  all  the  hostile 
bands  in  his  front.  His  flank,  the  distant  cabins,  were 
for  the  time  safe.  He  meant  the  campaign  of  1813 
should  make  this  last  forever  assured.  Harassed  by 
the  short  terms  of  the  militia,  tied  by  the  orders  of  the 
secretary  of  war,  soon  to  become  his  enemy,  the  opening 
season,  earlier  by  many  days  on  his  side  of  the  lake, 
found  his  preparations  well  in  hand. 

In  that  day  of  primitive  arms,  the  rapids  of  the 
Maumee  were  a  strategic  point  of  forest  warfare,  held  so 
by  the  commanders  of  both  races.  Little-Turtle,  Blue- 
Jacket,  Black-Hoof  and  Turkey-Tracks,  awaited  Wayne 
there.  There  the  French  built  a  fort,  and  the  British,  Fort 
Miami.  The  Maumee — the  Miami  of  the  lakes — runs 
north-easterly.  After  the  expulsion  of  the  French,  Fort 
Miami  side,  the  left  bank  was  called  the  British  side, 
while  the  easterly  or  southern  was  known  as  the  Ameri- 

1.43 


144  The   Torys  Daughter. 

can.  Old  Fort  Miami  was  now  a  ruin.  Two  miles 
above,  on  the  American  side,  and  twelve  miles  from  the 
lake,  was  the  site  of  the  to  become  famous  Camp  Meigs. 
The  banks  of  the  river  there,  are  about  one  hundred  feet 
higk,  from  the  top  of  which,  save  where  cut  down  by 
small  confluents,  the,  table-land  stretches  back  in  level 
sweeps,  then  heavily  wooded.  On  the  easterly  side,  a 
stream  made  a  deep  ravine  in  its  course  to  the  river. 
Just  above  this,  Harrison's  engineer,  Captain  Wood, 
planted  the  camp,  the  ravine  becoming  a  natural  defence. 
The  front  of  the  camp  was  some  three  hundred  yards 
from  the  river,  and  the  works  consisted  of  a  wall  of 
heavy  palisades,  of  2500  yards  in  extent,  enclosing  eight 
acres  of  ground,  many  sided,  with  numerous  angles  and 
strong  block-houses.  The  whole  was  surrounded  by  a 
ditch  and  abatis ;  the  timber  for  a  sufficient  breadth  had 
been  removed  from  about  it,  and  a  battery  commanded 
the  river.  The  Americans  were  deficient  in  artillery,  and 
ammunition  for  it,  in  the  war.  To  man  the  works  re 
quired  2500  men.  Here  at  mid-March  Harrison  made 
his  headquarters,  with  less  than  half  that  force.  Ohio 
and  Kentucky  were  to  furnish  the  needed  reinforcements. 
The  Black  swamp  lay  between  him  and  Sandusky.  The 
breadth  of  Ohio  between  him  and  Kentucky.  Frank- 
linton,  on  the  west  bank  of  the  Scioto,  opposite 
Columbus,  was  then  Governor  Meigs'  capital,  and  the 
headquarters  of  the  General. 

He  had  many  famous  scouts  and  runners.  On  Dud 
ley's  arrival  with  his  chief  in  March,  he  found  Carter 
there,  and  he  attached  him  to  himself  as  an  outside  aid, 
under  his  immediate  orders.  As  to  others  Carter's  posi 
tion  was  wholly  independent.  He  had  been  at  Detroit, 
Maiden  and  Windsor.  In  the  guise  of  an  old  Canadian 


The  First  Gun.  145 

of  ill  fortunes,  he  lingered  about  these  places,  observing 
and  picking  up  much  useful  information.  He  was  a  scout 
for  Wayne  and  knew  the  neighborhood  well.  He  discov 
ered  the  approach  of  the  British  army  in  latest  April,  and 
hastened  back  to  camp  with  the  information.  Then  there 
was  a  great  running  of  messengers  from  the  American 
camp  towards  Sandusky  and  Fort  Winchester,  to  Gov 
ernor  Meigs  and  Kentucky. 

With  his  scouts  and  runners,  Tecumseh  was  advised  of 
the  movements  of  his  enemy.  He  did  not  admire  his 
methods  of  fortifying  a  camp.  It  would  be  an  admirable 
cover  to  assemble  his  forces  under,  and  a  secure  place  to 
retreat  to,  if  repulsed.  If  permitted,  he  would  assemble 
and  organize  a  force  which  would  recapture  Detroit  and 
endanger  Maiden.  Tecumseh  would  assail  the  place 
over  the  ice  and  snow,  ere  its  growth  to  formidable  pro 
portions.  Proctor  and  his  council  decided  it  must  be 
crushed.  It  could  not  be  done  until  the  river  and  lake 
admitted  of  transportation.  The  chief  was  impatient;  he 
was  ready  long  before  the  tardy  sun  performed  its  part 
of  the  enterprise.  The  tardier  Proctor  was  not  then 
ready. 

With  the  rekindling  warmth  of  the  sun,  the  flutter  of 
banners,  the  gleam  of  scarlet,  of  buttons  and  arms,  the 
high  spirits  and  confidence,  the  expectations  of  officers 
and  soldiers,  by  which  she  was  surrounded  as  part  of 
her  daily  life,  Edith  felt  the  reawakening  of  her  own 
heroic  spirit.  The  bitterness  and  pain  of  mid-winter 
passed  with  its  snows.  Her  interest  in  the  river,  the 
cause  of  the  crown,  revived ;  the  voice  of  the  boastful 
Proctor  was  less  offensive.  He  had  shown  enterprise  in 
the  river  Raisin  expedition.  His  fault  was  his  haste  and 
want  of  care  in  leaving  the  well  fought  field.  He  now 

10 


146  The   Tory's  Daughter. 

had  a  thousand  trained  soldiers  ;  Tecumseh  would  lead 
2000  warriors,  would  command  them  in  person,  and  an 
other  effective  blow  would  be  struck  for  the  Prince  Regent 
and  the  homes  of  his  red  allies.  Her  father  was  eager 
and  confident.  It  was  hoped  another  campaign  would 
sufficiently  humble  the  Yankees.  True  an  amazing 
series  of  naval  victories  of  the  enemy  had  balanced  the 
moral  effect  of  his  reverses  by  land.  These  were  in  the 
now  past.  He  would  by  autumn  sue  for  peace,  with  an 
amended  boundary.  Mr.  Grayson,  a  man  of  fortune, 
owned  a  small  sloop  bearing  Edith's  name ;  in  this, 
with  his  daughter  and  a  small  party  of  ladies,  he  would 
accompany  the  expedition  against  Harrison,  the  new  gen 
eral.  The  voyage  would  be  a  short  one,  the  danger  to 
them  none.  The  scenes  of  Frenchtown  must  not  be 
repeated.  Edith  was  more  than  willing.  The  officers 
were  anxious  she  should  go.  They  would  carry  large  and 
commodious  tents,  and  camp-equipage.  She  would  be 
quartered  and  sheltered  in  the  lovely  woods,  mid  spring 
flowers  and  notes  of  song  birds.  The  Miami  of  the  lakes 
was  said  to  be  the  most  beautiful,  as  the  most  con 
siderable  of  the  rivers,  emptying  into  the  lake  on  that 
side. 

Anita  was  in  an  ecstasy  of  delight  from  the  day  of 
her  sister's  determination  to  go.  Naturally  she  resolved 
to  bring  about  a  meeting  between  her  and  the  young 
chief.  She  observed  the  prudence  of  silence  as  to  her 
purpose.  She  was  now  too  mature  a  woman  not  to  know 
that  a  maiden's  words  were  not  infallible  interpreters  of 
her  feelings  and  wishes. 

The  English  squadron  of  all  vessels,  freighted  with 
Proctor,  his  army,  and  fortunes,  made  a  gay  show  down 
the  Detroit ;  winging  out  in  the  broad  lake,  and  floating 


The  First  Gun.  147 

away  to  the  mouth  of  the  not  distant  Mnumee.  It  was  a 
lovely  day  of  softened  air,  and  the  sun  came  back  from 
the  water  blindingly,  in  the  eyes  of  the  confident  throngs 
on  board.  The  course  up  the  full  banked  river  was 
more  laborious. 

Just  below  the  old  fort  on  the  British  side,  the  bank 
bends  away  from  the  river,  leaving  a  bit  of  interval  large 
enough  for  the  British  encampment,  safe  from  the  enemy, 
and  which  was  selected  for  that  purpose.  The  Indians 
were  on  the  American  side,  and  there  made  their  camp. 
Their  business  was  to  infest  the  woods,  so  as  to  invest  the 
works  of  the  enemy  completely. 

The  royal  engineers  were  on  the  ground  in  advance 
and  selected  the  site  for  the  batteries  of  the  24-pounders 
and  cohorns.  On  the  morning  after  the  landing,  the  two 
generals  rode  up  to  examine  the  ground,  and  inspect 
their  enemy's  works.  Tecumseh,  a  noble  horseman,  was 
mounted  on  a  powerful  charger,  and  in  his  uniform  coat, 
golden  epaulets,  scarlet  cap  and  eagle's  feather,  was 
a  warrior  to  be  seen.  Short,  pudgy  Proctor,  sashed  and 
gorgeous,  an  indifferent  rider,  appeared  at  disadvantage 
by  his  side.  Everything  from  sky  to  sunlit  earth,  was 
gay  and  glorious.  The  Maumee  had  never  seen  a  more 
gallant  spectacle.  The  morning  parade  on  the  old 
grounds  of  Fort  Miami,  the  gleam  of  arms,  the  scarlet 
uniforms,  the  generals  and  aids,  with  a  troop  of  provin 
cial  cavalry,  who  rode  well,  galloped  up  to  see  the  mount 
ing  of  the  heavy  guns,  which  were  to  demolish  the 
wooden  walls,  behind  which  Harrison  and  his  soldiers 
hoped  to  find  shelter. 

Eyes  from  Camp  Meigs  had  detected  signs  of  a  pres 
ence  not  healthful  in  the  wood  on  the  British  shore,  a 
gleam  of  red,  a  flash  of  bullion,  and  plumes,  and  an  18- 


148  The  Torys  Daughter. 

pounder  sent  a  round  shot,  with  precision,  into  the  group 
about  the  guns,  fatal  to  two  or  three,  and  the  boom  of 
the  gun  rolled  down  the  high  walled  valley,  rolling 
through  the  old  wood,  startling  the  bronzed  warriors  on 
the  east  side,  who  never  could  hear  the  thunder  of  ord 
nance  with  indifference.  There  was  a  vein  of  supersti 
tion  in  Proctor,  and  the  result  of  the  first  shot  was  an 
omen  of  ill.  Tecumseh  laughed  at  the  influence  which  it 
had  on  the  feelings  of  his  commander,  not  advancing 
him  in  the  chief's  estimation.  The  engineers  changed 
the  position  of  the  battery,  and  the  light  of  the  next 
morning  saw  the  woody  curtain  which  hid  their  labors 
pushed  by,  revealing  their  heavy  guns  in  position. 
When  the  artillerists  were  ready  to  open,  upon  turning 
to  the  wooden  wall,  lo !  a  change  there.  The  white  field 
of  tents  that  the  day  before  filled  the  foreground  of  the 
camp,  and  gleamed  a  wavering  line  of  white  through  the 
early  night,  had  vanished,  and  their  expectant  eyes  met  a 
dull  line  of  yellow  earth  along  the  whole  extent, — a 
grand  traverse^  on  an  ample  base,  rising  twenty  feet  from 
the  surface,  behind  which  stood  the  white  town  of  tents 
in  absolute  security. 

Chagrined  and  angered,  Proctor  roared  and  thundered 
out  his  stupid  rage  from  all  his  "wide  throated  guns,  send 
ing  harmless  iron  to  strengthen  the  wall  of  senseless 
earth,  or  bore  and  splinter  the  now  useless  palisades 
easily  renewed  from  within.  He  was  but  sparingly 
replied  to  by  his  provident  enemy,  whose  limited  supply 
of  food  for  his  small  and  few  guns  restrained  his  impulse 
to  prodigality  in  its  use. 

The  warriors  streamed  through  the  forest  in  the  rear 
of  the  camp,  weaving  an  impenetrable  net-work  of  invis 
ible  links  which  could  only  be  broken  by  a  determined 


The  First  Gun.  149 

charge  of  a  body  of  well  handled  soldiers.  They  stole 
up  to  the  margin  of  the  wood  near  the  fort.  Here  and 
there  a  bronzed  face  in  paint,  a  shaved  head  with  the 
scalp  lock  challenging  the  scalping  knife  of  an  enemy, 
flashed  from  behind  a  protecting  tree,  to  disappear  ere 
the  alert  riflemen  of  the  fort  could  sight  the  deadly  weap 
on.  There  were  useless  exchanges  of  shots  at  a  range 
too  great  for  the  arms  of  that  day.  Some  of  the  advent 
urous  warriors  ascended  trees  and  fired  into  the  camp. 
Some  of  the  Ohio  men,  who  garrisoned  the  fortress,  carried 
with  them  a  heavy  rifle  which  discharged  a  four  ounce 
ball,  effective  at  a  half  mile,  which  was  used  fatally  more 
than  once  on  the  aspiring  braves,  and  came  to  be  called 
"  Old  Meigs." 

Something  occurred  the  evening  following  the  appear 
ance  of  the  grand  traverse  of  the  Americans,  near  and 
within  the  British  camp,  of  much  interest,  and  influenc 
ing  the  fortunes  of  those  whose  history  I  recount. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

SQUAW-BLOW. 

THE  "  Edith  "  on  landing  the  Grayson  party,  found 
a  pleasant  place  below  the  craft  of  the  expedi 
tion,  where  she  was  tied  to  trees  on  the  shore,  under 
which,  on  the  leaf-strewn  earth,  their  double-walled  tents 
were  set  up,  and  the  ground  covered  with  mattings,  car 
pets,  and  rugs.  Here,  protected  by  the  wood  crowned 
bank,  where  the  warm  sunbeams  came  in,  the  early  spring 
was  perceptibly  working  its  charm  ;  her  earliest  flowers 
were  in  bloom,  her  birds  in  song.  It  was  below  the 
camp,  between  the  limit  of  which  and  the  group  of  the 
Grayson  tents  was  a  tiny  spring  run,  which  cleft  the  high 
bank,  making  for  itself  a  ravine  seemingly  disproportion 
ately  large. 

Edith  would  be  beyond  sentinels  and  pass  words.  A 
standing  order  admitted  all  of  the  party  to  the  camp  in 
which  were  the  quarters  of  the  husbands  of  two  of  the 
ladies.  They  were  accustomed  to  the  boom  of  heavy 
guns,  and  were  little  disturbed  by  the  cannonade. 

The  day  of  the  inspection  by  Proctor,  the  ladies  were 
abroad  in  the  warm  sun,  and  they  found  several  of  the 
alway  out  of  place  hangers-about  Maiden,  who  came,  as 
was  inevitable.  The  nondescripts  had  two  crafts  in  the 
river  below,  one  of  which  belonged  to  a  well-known 
sutler ;  useless  everywhere,  they  were  familiar  figures, 
their  names  known  to  but  few. 

150 


Squaw-Bloiv.  151 

The  opening  of  the  heavy  guns  and  feeble  response 
that  second  morning,  were  the  absorbing  theme  of  con 
versation.  An  assault  was  expected.  The  boats  were 
ready  and  the  soldiers  under  arms  should  the  wall  be 
broached.  As  the  sun  warmed  up  the  small  plat  and 
sloping  bank,  the  girls  and  their  friends  were  on  the  alert, 
making  excursions  along  the  now  deserted  river,  and 
climbing  the  secondary  hill-like  bank  to  the  wooded  land 
above  for  better  observation. 

On  their  way  up  this  ascent  one  of  the  oldest  of  the 
worn  fort  haunters  of  Maiden,  whom  Edith  saw  the  day 
before,  was  reclining  on  the  northern  bank  of  the  ravine, 
in  a  position  to  take  the  full  warmth  of  the  sun.  Evi 
dently  his  companions  had  left  him  for  the  more  attrac 
tive  scene  of  the  cannonade. 

The  Indian  girl  lingered  a  little  and  passed  nearest  the 
old  man.  To  her  he  showed  a  lovely  "  squaw-blow" 
removing  from  it  for  the  purpose  a  bit  of  light  tracing 
paper,  then  used  by  engineers.  She  was  attracted  by 
it,  and  went  to  him,  when  hevgave  the  flower  to  her.  She 
remained  a  moment  by  him,  and  tripped  along  to  gain 
Edith's  side,  holding  out  her  present  gleefully  to  her. 
Edith  took  and  greatly  admired  it  ;  its  three  lily  white 
petals,  and  golden  anthers  make  it  one  of  the  most  strik 
ing  of  the  earlier  flowers,  and  was  the  first  the  girl  had 
seen  that  spring. 

"  Old  man  gave  it  me,"  were  the  words  of  the  girl,  in 
her  improved  English,  as  she  received  it  back.  "  I 
promised  him  some  bread  and  meat — poor  old  man,"  pity 
ingly. 

Edith  turned  to  look  back  at  him  compassionately, 
touched  by  the  gentleness  of  a  nature  that  prompted 
such  an  offering.  She  said  some  word  of  approval,  and 


152  The  Torys  Daughter. 

Anita  ran  back  to  execute  her  promise  to  the  old  man, 
and  examined  with  more  care  ihe  paper  which  she 
received  with  the  flower.  She  found  a  pencil  inscription 
on  it,  which  deeply  engaged  the  attention  of  the  curious 
young  woman.  Twenty  minutes  later  she  joined  her 
sister  on  the  plain  above.  On  their  return  the  meek 
old  man  was  finishing  his  repast  with  apparent  satisfac 
tion,  bestowing  the  surplus  of  Anita's  bounty  in  a  capa 
cious  pocket  of  a  loose  outside  garment.  Then  he  arose, 
went  down  to  the  spring  brook,  extended  himself  on  the 
ground  and  took  a  seemingly  copious  draught  from  it,  in 
that  primitive  mode.  Apparently  refreshed,  he  arose 
seeming  to  listen  a  moment  to  the  sound  of  the  guns, 
turned  and  moved  slowly  in  the  direction  of  the  lower 
craft,  and  past  from  the  eyes  of  the  girls  as  from  the 
mind  of  one  of  them.  He  carried  with  him  a  scrap  of 
paper  on  which  were  two  words  written  by  the  Indian 
girl. 

On  their  return,  Edith  found  the  flower  in  a  small 
china  pitcher  filled  with  water,  to  which  her  sister  went 
at  once  and  hung  over  it  with  the  liveliest  interest. 

"  What  is  it,  Anita  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Squaw-bloio"  she  answered,  showing  her  teeth  in  her 
delight.  A  little  later  she  said,  "  Young  chief  over 
there ; "  throwing  a  slender  brown  hand  toward  the  Ameri 
can  camp. 

"  Who  told  you  ?  "  Edith  may  have  supposed  this  as 
probable,  the  color  deepening  in  her  face,  on  hearing  it 
asserted. 

"  Squaw-blow"  replied  the  child,  now  breaking  into  a 
peal  of  girl  laughter.  "  Edith  remember  that  night  on 
the  Huron,  after  the  young  chief  went  ?  " 

"  Well,  Anita  ?  " 


Squaw-Blow.  153 

"  I  told  her  I  bring  him  back." 

"  Oh,  I  remember." 

"  Edith  said,—'  Bring  him.'  " 

"  Oh,  I  did  ?  "  now  laughing  in  turn.  "  Well,  you  never 
brought  him — naughty  girl,"  with  playful  reproach. 

"  He  come  to-night,"  still  laughing. 

"  Who  told  you  ? "  startled  by  the  thought. 

"  Squaw-blow"  with  increasing  mirth. 

"  What  a  wonderful  flower !  Did  it  say  when  he 
would  arrive  ? " 

"  When  the  moon  is  in  the  tree  tops  over  the  river ; 
Anita  bring  him.  She  keep  others  from  sister ;  "  relaps 
ing  into  her  earlier  form  of  speech.  Then  she  ran  away 
laughing,  avoiding  her  sister. 

What  did  the  child  mean  ?  At  the  first  her  words 
startled  and  impressed  Edith.  She  was  full  of  elfin 
pranks.  Edith  supposed  Dudley  was  near,  and  the  won 
der  was,  Anita  had  not  teased  her  in  this  way  before. 
The  impression  passed  from  her  mind,  though  the  child's 
words  lingered  in  her  memory.  When  she  next  met  her. 
the  girl's  face  was  unusually  grave,  contrite,  her  sister 
thought,  for  what  she  had  said. 

The  day  wore  away,  the  river  ran  sombre  in  the  deep 
ening  shade  of  its  high  bank.  The  sunlight  faded  from 
the  trees  on  the  eastern  shore,  lingered  on  the  American 
flag-staff  and  disappeared.  Mr.  Grayson  had  been  sum 
moned  to  meet  the  general.  Edith's  lady  friends  were  on 
a  visit  to  their  husbands  in  the  camp.  As  daylight  yielded 
to  confirmed  night,  she  saw  Anita  on  the  river's  immedi 
ate  bank,  watching  the  moon  rising  through  the  eastern 
tree  tops,  and  then  she  flitted  away.  What  did  it  mean  ? 
A  sudden  tremulous  sensation,  as  if  caused  by  a  strange 
presence,  thrilled  her,  like  a  chill.  She  turned,  walked 


154  The  l^orys  Daughter. 

over  the  heavy  rugs  to  a  charcoal  burner,  as  for  warmth. 
Two  lamps  shed  a  soft  light  through  the  canvas  apart 
ment.  She  heard  a  little  rustle  outside  the  folds  of  the 
opening  canvas  entrance.  The  eyes  and  dark  face  of 
Anita  showed  an  instant.  She  drew  the  heavy  folds 
aside,  and  Dudley's  self  entered !  He  took  a  step  forward, 
and  halted,  as  if  at  the  word  of  command.  He  held  his 
cap  in  his  hand,  and  stood  an  instant  spell-bound. 

"  Cliff  ton  !  Gracious  Father!  what  madness  is  this?" 
she  exclaimed,  recoiling  a  little  from  him. 

"  Madness  to  meet  your  wish  ?  " 

"  My  wish  ?     My  wish  ?     What  can  you  mean  ? " 

"  Lightly,  idly  spoken,  it  may  be.  It  was  of  my  seek 
ing.  Anita  met  and  guided  me  here.  " 

"  Oh  !  the  silly,  idle  child  !  Surely  she  did  not — you 
do  not  mean  to  say —  "  Unable  to  finish,  the  hot  blood 
surging  into  her  face,  still  showing  distress. 

"  I  sent  Carter  to  her.  He  brought  me  this,"  produc 
ing  Anita's  script. 

The  girl  took  it  and  read—  "  Edith  Gray." 

"  And  you  chose  to  regard  her  as  my  emissary  ?  "  The 
color  deepening  with  something  of  scorn  also  in  her  face, 
as  she  remembered  her  thoughtless  words  to  the  girl. 

"  She  was  my  emissary,"  he  said  quietly.  "  I  may 
have  been  mistaken  when  I  received  this,"  he  said,  unty 
ing  and  withdrawing  from  his  neck,  the  trinket  given 
him  by  the  Shawanoe. 

"Was  that  given  you  as  from  me?"  in  amazement. 

His  answer  was  a  look  of  surprise. 

"  As  an  avowal,  a  pledge,  unsought,  unasked,  sent  by 
an  Indian  chief  ? "  Her  eyes  now  flashing  with  indig 
nant  scorn.  "  Oh,  Dudley !  and  you  thought  this  of 
me?" 


Sg  u  a  zv-Blow.  155 

"  I  did  not  think  it  an  avowal — a  pledge.  I  did  think 
it  was  a  permission  to  remember  you.  I  was  mistaken. 
It  was  not  to  say  these  things  I  came.  Some  words  I 
will  say,  the  words  I  came  to  say,  scornfully  as  you  meet 
me." 

He  took  a  single  step  nearer  her,  touched  the  ground 
with  his  knee,  raised  his  eyes,  clasped  his  hands,  and  said 
with  passionate  fervor, 

"  Edith  Gray — with  every  fibre  of  my  heart  and  soul,  I 
love,  I  reverence  you.  You  are  my  ideal  of  womanly  per 
fection."  There  could  be  no  danger  that  his  sincerity 
would  be  questioned. 

Not  at  the  instant  did  even  these  words  allay  the  tem 
pest  of  her  bosom.  She  turned  from  him  in  the  pride 
and  anger,  which  still  ruled  her,  and  murmured  as  to  her 
self,  her  mind  dwelling  on  his  first  misapprehension, 
"  Oh,  the  cruel  vanity  of  a  man  !  " 

As  she  turned  again  to  him,  he  had  risen,  and  stood 
with  a  proud  abjectness,  waiting  the  return  of  her  eyes, 
that  he  might  take  silent  leave.  She  may  have  divined 
his  intention.  Whatever  may  have  been  her  purpose,  she 
would  not  thus  have  him  part  from  her. 

"  Mr.  Dudley,  you  are  under  a  mistake  ;  you  do  not 
know  me,  even  my  name,"  her  face  softening. 

"  Love  knows  that  it  loves.  It  knows  when  it  is 
scorned.  It  seeks  no  further  knowledge,"  he  said,  his 
pride  and  spirit  mounting. 

She  would  not  thus  be  silenced. 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  the  name — Grayson — Edward 
Grayson  ? " 

"  Something  of  it.  He  adhered  to  the  king.  I  know 
nothing  of  him,"  coldly. 

"A  Tory!  ay,  a  Tory!    Condemned  to  death,  his  prop- 


156  The  Tory's  Daughter. 

erty  confiscated,  he  escaped  to  devote  himself  to  retribu 
tion."  She  paused.  As  he  made  no  reply  she  went  on. 
"  Him  you  met  in  Ohio.  I  am  the  Tory's  daughter. 
Surely  you  understand  now.  It  was  to  the  Tory's  child 
you  proffered  love  but  now  ;  "  and  she  laughed  a  bitter 
scornful  laugh.  "  It  was  to  gain  the  Shawanoe,  Round 
head,  and  the  Wyandots  to  this  alliance  that  Dr.  Gray 
made  that  mission  to  the  Huron,  which  had  failed,  were 
it  not  for  Captain  Dudley  of  the  American  army. 

"  You  assaulted  the  nation  of  your  father  and  mother, 
when  in  dire  extremity.  You  made  the  necessity  which 
drove  us  to  this  alliance.  The  work  was  more  yours  than 
mine.  Why  do  you  reproach  us  ?  You  fight  by  the  side 
of  the  savage — when  you  do  fight.  The  Shawanoe  long 
had  that  trinket.  I  renewed  the  ribbon  that  day.  It 
was  his  gift  to  you  ;  not — not —  "  mine  was  on  her  tongue, 
she  could  not  say  it.  "I  heard  something  of  the  sup 
posed  conspiracy  against  you.  I  never  knew  the  truth  of 
it.  Shawanoe  took  it  upon  himself  to  care  for  you." 

"  Shawanoe  !     Who  and  what  is  he  ?  " 

"  Is  it  possible  you  do  not  know  ?  Tecumseh — who 
could  he  be  ?  "  Dudley  started  at  this.  "  I  was  thought 
to  have  influence  over  him,  and  through  him  gained 
Round-head  and  the  Wyandots." 

"  So  that  was  your  work  ?  " 

"  Our  work." 

"  And  Frenchtown  !     Great  God !  " 

"  I  am  the  Tory's  daughter — "  yet  wincing  under 
this. 

"  Return  your  gift  to  your  chief,  or  give  it  to  Round 
head,"  said  the  youth,  with  answering  scorn  of  voice  and 
manner,  tossing  the  bauble  upon  the  ground  at  her 
feet. 


Squaw-Blow.  157 

"You  had  better  keep  it,"  she  said,  bending  and  pick 
ing  it  up,  touching  her  lips  with  it,  and  drawing  his  rib 
bon  through  her  fingers.  "  It  did  you  good  service  once. 
There  are  men  in  power  here  who  think  your  escape  from 
Detroit  merits  death.  They  would  not  hesitate  to 
enforce  it  against  you,"  she  said,  showing  real  concern 
in  her  voice  and  manner,  and  continuing  to  caress  the 
ribbon,  upon  which  her  eyes  fell  several  times. 

"  Let  them.  The  man  who  endures  your  scorn  has 
little  to  fear,"  he  answered.  The  step  of  trained  men,  at 
that  instant  caught  his  ear.  "  Your  friends  come,"  he 
said  with  a  smile,  unmoved.  "  You  saw  me  in  their 
hands  once  before,  Miss  Gray — I  beg  your  pardon — Miss 
Grayson.  That  pleasure  is  to  be  yours  again." 

Her  less  accustomed  ear  now  also  caught  the  sound. 
"  Oh  !  Cliffton  !  you  do  not — you  cannot  suppose  I  would 
betray  you  !  "  clasping  her  hands  in  an  agony. 

"  Why  not  ?  You  boast  of  being  the  Tory's  daughter," 
laughing  with  something  of  his  old  gayety. 

There  came  a  sharp  but  low  word  of  command,  followed 
by  a  thud  of  musket  butts  upon  the  earth,  with  a  rattle  of 
arms  and  trappings. 

"  Oh  ! "  was  Edith's  unconscious  exclamation.  She 
clapped  her  hands,  and  Dudley  replacing  his  foraging  cap 
turned  to  face  what  might  await  him,  and  the  distressed 
girl  escaped  from  the  room  unseen. 

A  moment  later,  and  a  youthful,  slightly  formed  officer 
entered,  cast  his  eyes  about,  as  if  he  expected  to  find 
others  present. 

"  You  are  alone  !  "  said  the  intruder,  his  eyes  coming 
back  to  Dudley  as  if  surprised. 

"  As  you  say,"  was  the  answer,  confirmed  by  his  cov 
ered  head. 


158  The  Torys  DangJitcr. 

"  Dudley  ? "  asking  his  name,  in  a  suggestive  form. 

"  Dudley,"  was  the  laconic  reply. 

"  Ah  !  you  see — I  am  not  aware  of  your  rank,"  again 
glancing  around  the  spacious  apartment,  as  if  the  man 
before  him  was  not  what  he  expected  to  find. 

"  My  title  is  of  no  consequence,"  was  the  good-natured 
reply. 

"  I  am  ordered  to  arrest  Captain  or  Major  Dudley, 
and  conduct  him  to  headquarters/'  he  said,  evincing  by 
voice  and  manner  that  the  service  was  distasteful. 

"Arrest?  Ah!  Capture  would  not  answer,  I  sup 
pose  ?  "  quite  in  his  old  laughing  way.  "  I  am  entirely 
at  you  disposal,  Lieutenant,"  he  added. 

They  stepped  out  to  find  a  squad  of  twelve  soldiers, 
six  facing  the  entrance,  and  three  each  side  of  it.  Dudley 
laughed  at  the  formidable  array,  and  the  evident  place 
intended  for  him.  "  I  am  honored,"  he  said. 

"  Well,  you  see,  Dudley,"  said  the  officer,  laughing  in 
turn,  the  frank  pleasant  way  of  the  American  putting  him 
at  once  on  the  best  terms  with  him — "  You  see,  you  have 
such  a  deuced  reputation  with  us,  of  disappearing  you 
know." 

"Ah,  yes.  I  appeared  to  disappear.  I  remember 
something  of  it.  Things  will  happen  you  know — Lieu 
tenant — " 

"  Gordon,"  said  the  Briton. 

"Thanks,  Lieutenant  Gordon.  I  am  glad  to  know 
you,"  extending  his  hand,  which  was  cordially  taken, 
and  the  two  walked  off  arm  in  arm,  preceded  and  fol 
lowed  by  a  platoon  of  six  soldiers. 

A  lantern  borne  by  the  sergeant  lit  the  way,  under  the 
trees.  As  they  went  out — "  May  I  know  the  cause  of 


Squaw-Blow.  159 

my  arrest?"  asked  the  American.  "A  capture  in  this 
neighborhood,  I  could  better  comprehend,"  laughing. 

"  I  am  not  advised,"  was  the  reply.  "  Perhaps  some 
thing  of  your  departure  on  an  occasion  before  referred 
to." 

"  Ah,  yes.  The  fact  is,  Gordon,  1  had  not  the  honor 
of  your  attentions  then,  and  really  felt  neglected,"  he 
replied,  laughing  gayly. 

"  I  should  regret  any  unpleasant  thing  here,  Dudley, 
and  I  do  regret  that  this  duty  fell  to  me.  You  have  been 
talked  about  some  among  us  boys,  and  I  wish  to  say,  you 
have  friends  among  us." 

"  Thanks,  thanks.  Your  words  are  very  pleasant,  very 
grateful.  Those  who  happen  to  think  well  of  me,  I  hope 
will  have  no  occasion  to  change  their  minds."  He  spoke 
warmly,  and  while  he  could  think  his  position  no  more 
than  unpleasant,  unfortunate  in  his  detention,  he  gathered 
himself  up  to  face  things  as  they  might  arise. 

The  interview  with  Edith  had  stirred  his  nature  to  its 
depths.  There  was  no  sediment  there.  His  faculties, 
his  intellect  were  aroused,  and  would  work  clearly.  His 
feelings  were  a  chaos.  That  he  had  been  victimized  was 
clear.  Whether  by  himself  or  the  conspiracy  of  circum 
stances,  was  not  so  clear.  Edith  was  a  consummate  ac 
tress.  Her  surprise,  amazement,  were  certainly  genuine, 
as  was  the  scorn,  the  contempt,  alike  of  words  and  voice, 
look  and  manner.  He  would  not  think  she  was  a  party 
to  his  capture.  If  it  was  planned,  Carter  would  be  made 
prisoner  also.  If  not,  Anita  would  notify  him.  His 
confidence  was  unshaken  in  her.  Carter  would  learn  he 
was  a  prisoner.  Shawanoe  was  Tecumseh.  Wasegoboah 
told  him  this  in  his  Indian  way,  but  he  missed  his  mean 
ing.  He  ought  to  have  thought  this  out  for  himself. 


160  Tlie  Tory's  Daughter. 

He  was  glad  to  know  it.  Anita  was  Tecumseh's  niece 
then.  He  dismissed  the  chief  from  his  mind.  To  build 
on  him  now  would  be  delusive.  He  remembered  Edith's 
clapping  her  hands.  It  was  in  his  ears  constantly,  with 
her  exclamation.  He  would  not  think  it  was  a  signal  to 
Gordon  to  advance.  That  gentleman  used  no  stealth  in 
his  approach.  He  might  have  escaped,  but  he  never 
thought  of  it.  It  was  not  a  place  to  run  from,  nor  he 
a  man  to  run  from  any  place. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

CARTER    BETS    ON    RESULTS. 

THAT  had  been  something  more  than  an  unsatisfac 
tory  day  for  Proctor.  The  ominous  shock  of 
that  i8-pounder  of  the  enemy's  battery  was  slow  to  dissi 
pate.  There  were  deeper,  older  causes  of  disquiet : 
smothered  differences  between  himself  and  officers  of 
detachments  under  his  command  ;  a  lack  of  harmony 
between  himself  and  the  officers  of  his  own  regiment,  so 
fatal  to  the  efficiency  of  an  organization  nice  and  even 
delicate  in  some  lines,  and  in  the  cement  of  association 
and  confidence  found  in  the  best  of  the  British  service  of 
that  day.  Reynolds  and  his  militia,  who  rendered  such 
gallant  service  at  Frenchtown,  capable  of  good,  of  excel 
lent  work  when  well  used  and  commanded,  he  held  in 
almost  open  contempt.  Stout  old  St.  George  had  not  yet 
recovered  from  his  wounds.  Proctor  had  been  very 
accurately  advised  of  Harrison's  force.  His  day's  bom 
bardment  must  advise  him  of  the  strength  of  his  works. 
He  knew  there  was  a  strong  body  of  men  at  Fort 
Winchester,  to  which  messengers  had  been  despatched, 
as  also  to  Sandusky.  He  was  advised  to  send  his  gun 
boats  up  the  river  to  intercept  and  demolish  any  flotilla 
that  might  seek  to  reinforce  the  enemy  from  the  upper 
forts.  He  derided  the  idea. 

.    "  Let  them   come   to   us  here,  the   more   the   better. 
»  161 


1 62  The  Torys  Daughter, 

Tecumseh's  Indians  will  have  the  hair  of  every  devil  of 
them  before  they  get  in.  And  what  if  they  do?  the  old 
trap  is  ready.  I'll  blow  their  d — d  old  puncheons  out  of 
the  ground  in  an  hour,"  and  so  he  went  on. 

Well,  he  opened  the  next  morning,  and  now  after 
twenty-four  hours  of  bellowing  and  thunder,  the  wall  was 
as  strong  as  ever. 

"No  matter,"  he  now  said,  "a  heavy  battery  would 
open  at  daylight  from  the  lower  rear." 

"  To  find  another  mud  bank  to  fire  into,"  replied  the 
irritating  Colonel  Elliott. 

This  enraged  him.  He  would  let  them  know.  He 
drank  all  day.  Drank  brandy  after  dinner.  Its  exhilara 
tion  had  passed,  and  he  was  very  irritable.  The  enemy's 
expected  re-enforcements  again  came  up.  Well,  they 
must  land  somewhere.  It  was  Tecumseh's  plan  to  fall  on 
them,  and  enter  the  old  pen  with  such  of  the  survivors  as 
reached  it — if  it  still  stood,  was  his  reply. 

Then  came  the  report  of  Dudley's  capture.  He  heard 
it  with  great  satisfaction,  relief  in  fact.  He  had  been 
bated  a  good  deal.  Here  was  a  man  whom  he  had  never 
seen,  yet  toward  whom  he  felt  a  strong  grudge,  delivered 
into  his  hands,  and  who  would  not  dare  answer  back. 

"  Ah,  ha  !  So  we  have  him,  have  we  ?  The  great 
American  walking  gentleman.  Keep  your  places,  gentle 
men,"  to  those  present,  who  showed  signs  of  dissolving 
informally.  "  We'll  make  short  work  of  him.  What  in 
could  have  sent  him  round  here  ?  " 

"  He  may  be  backed,"  suggested  Warburton. 

"  He's  certain  to  be  damned — eh,  Home  ?  "  casting  his 
eyes  toward  the  officer,  was  Proctor's  reply,  coarsely 
laughing. 

Glances  passed  between  Elliott  and  Grayson,  the  last 


Carter  Bets  on  Results.  163 

changing  his  seat  to  one  more  obscure.  They  had  not 
to  wait. 

There  came  a  signal  from  the  main  entrance.  "  Bring 
him  in,"  called  the  loud  voice  of  the  general. 

The  escort  marched  in.  The  front  rank  opened,  the 
officer  and  prisoner  advanced  two  or  three  steps.  The 
officer  saluted,  wheeled  and  took  his  place  in  front  of  his 
men,  in  a  single  rank  across  the  entrance,  yet  out  of 
hearing,  leaving  Dudley  alone,  standing  immediately  in 
front  of  Proctor,  three  or  four  yards  distant. 

When  the  rank  in  front  opened,  he  lifted  his  cap  with  a 
graceful  inclination  to  the  general,  advanced  a  step  and 
halted,  as  much  with  the  manner  of  the  drawing-room  as 
the  parade  ground.  A  fine  figure,  appearing  tall  in  a 
closely  fitting  undress  of  blue,  which  never  looked  better 
then  when  worn  by  him  ;  a  frank,  handsome,  spirited  face  ; 
a  good  head,  well  and  modestly  borne,  he  stood  the  centre 
of  the  eyes  of  men  of  wide  knowledge,  at  least  of  soldiers. 
His  very  striking  personal  advantages,  his  easy,  modest 
bearing,  were  not  lost  on  them.  Proctor  was  himself  im 
pressed,  and  for  a  little  time  silent.  It  incensed  him. 

"  So,  so,  young  man,"  he  said  at  length,  "  who  are 
you  ?  You  have  a  tongue  I  s'pose,  can't  you  speak  ?  "  as 
if  it  was  his  duty  to  open  a  conference. 

"  Dudley — my  name  is  Dudley,"  in  an  ordinary  tone, 
in  no  way  moved  by  the  general's  manner. 

"  Dudley — yes — Dudley.  You  have  another  haven't 
you  ?  " 

"  Cliffton." 

"  Dudley  Cliffton  ? " 

"  I  have  been  called  Dudley  Cliffton." 

"  Oh,  you  have  been  called  Dudley  Cliffton,  have  you  ? 


164  The  Tory  s  Daughter. 

Take  notice,  gentlemen  ; "  looking  about  as  if  a  strong 
point  was  gained. 

"  On  the  roll  I  am  written  Cliffton  Dudley." 

"  The  deuce  you  are  !  Ah,  yes,  I  see.  You  are  Cliffton 
Dudley  on  the  roll ;  when  you  roll  off,  you  are  Dudley 
Cliffton,"  laughing  coarsely  at  his  own  wit.  "  Well,  on 
or  off,  you  have  some  rank  over  there,"  with  a  nod  of 
the  head  toward  the  American  side — "  you  did  not  give 
it  to  the  officer  who  arrested  you,  I've  been  informed." 

"  He  did  not  ask  it." 

"Not  ask  it?  Tell  Gordon  to  step  forward,"  which 
he  did. 

"  Now  repeat  what  you  said,  Mr.  Dudley  Cliffton." 

"  He  knew  my  name.  Excused  himself,  as  I  took  it, 
for  not  giving  me  a  rank  title,  Baying  he  did  not  know 
what  it  was." 

"  Well — your  answer  to  that  ?  " 

"  I  replied  it  was  no  matter." 

"  Oh,  ah,  very  well.  Now,  Mr.  No-Matter  Dudley,  you 
have  some  rank  ?  " 

"  I  rightfully  wear  this,"  laying  a  finger  on  the  sign  of 
rank,  modestly. 

"  You  should  bear  in  mind  that  we  so  seldom  see  your 
regulation  coat  that  we  are  to  be  excused  for  not  know 
ing  its  quarterings,"  said  Home,  with  the  ease  of  one 
privileged. 

The  sally  was  received  with  a  loud  laugh  by  the  gen 
eral,  and  echoed  by  Colonel  Short  and  one  or  two  more. 

"  Right — right,  Home.  We've  seen  it  on  some  of  my 
Indians  though,"  responded  Proctor,  with  another  laugh. 

"  Your  Indians  have  the  reputation  of  taking  the  hair 
also,"  said  the  prisoner  with  a  smile. 

Absolute  silence  followed  this  speech,  and  then — 


Carter  Bets  on  Results.  165 

"  How  !  How  !  "  roared  Proctor.  "  This  to  my  face  ? 
By young  man  !  do  you  know  where  you  are  ?  An 
swer  ;  do  you  know  where  you  are  and  who  you  are  ? " 

"  I  heard  the  order  to  conduct  me  to  the  general's 
marquee.  I  presume  I  am  before  the  Prince  Regent's 
general  commanding  his  forces  now  investing  Camp 
Meigs,  and  a  board  of  British  officers.  I  am  a  prisoner.1' 
This  was  very  well  said.  The  pathos  of  his  position  was 
expressed  with  a  force  that  reached  many  present.  An 
officer  arose.  Ere  he  could  speak — 

"  Take  your  seat,  Colonel  Elliott.  There  is  no  occasion 
for  interference.  What  is  your  rank,  Mr.  Dudley  ?  come, 
that  is  a  square  question." 

"  I  am  a  major  of  the  regular  service." 

"  So,  so,  we  have  a  major.  Why  could  you  not  tell  me 
that  before  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  a  volunteer,"  with  his  eyes  in  the  distance. 

"  Well,  who  in said  you  were  ?  I  won't  be  trifled 

with,"  frowning. 

"  He  means,"  said  a  quiet  voice  from  the  shadow, 
"  that  he  cannot  volunteer  a  statement.  That  question 
had  not  been  asked  him." 

"  Who  is  conducting  this  examination  ?  "  sharply,  with 
a  flash  in  the  direction  of  the  voice.  "  So  you  were  caught 
sneaking  through  my  camp  ?  "  to  his  prisoner. 

"  I  was  honored  with  an  armed  escort  when  I  entered 
your  camp." 

"  Well,  you'll  be  honored  in  the  same  way  when  you 
leave  it,"  (acknowledged  by  a  bow  from  the  prisoner ;) 
"  if  you  ever  do,  "  was  added. 

"  Well,  skulking  outside  my  camp — then  ?  " 

"  Your  officer  can  inform  you  where  I  was  found,  possi 
bly." 


1 66  The  Torys  Daughter. 

"  Possibly !  young  man,  I'll  have  no  trifling — answer." 

"  Your  question  asserts  what  was  not  true.  Choosing 
to  take  the  risk,  I  had  a  perfect  right  everywhere  outside 
your  lines.  I  approached  a  tent  occupied  by  persons  of 
the  civil  service,  outside  your  camp." 

"Ah,  you  did.  Come  now — that  is  something  like. 
Go  on — go  on — can't  you  ?  Of  course  you  were  expected 
there  ?  " 

"  Very  clearly  I  was  not,"  with  modest  emphasis. 

"  Oh,  indeed  !  not  expected — you  took  somebody  by 
surprise  ?  " 

"  I  may  have  surprised  some  one ;  I  think  I  did  very 
much.  I  was  myself  taken.  If  my  opinion  is  of  value,  I 
was  not  only  not  expected,  I  was  not  wished." 

"  Not  wished — no,  I  should  think  not.     Well,  sir  ?  " 

"I  should  have  gone  as  I  came  but  for  the  polite 
attentions  of  Lieutenant  Gordon — quite  gratuitous." 

"  You  had  a  purpose  in  your  visit." 

"  I  had." 

"  State  it." 

"  Purely  personal.  It  had  no  reference  to  the  public 
service." 

"  You  decline  to  state  it  ?  " 

"  Most  decidedly,"  smiling  pleasantly. 

"  Oh,  decidedly  you  will  not.  Well,  Major — we  will  see, 
we  will  see.  In  your  fort,  camp,  yard,  pen — the  place 
where  you  stay  when  not  out  on  a  private  lark,  what  are 
your  duties  ?  " 

"  Well,  just  now,  keeping  the  British  and  Indian  gen 
erals  out  of  it,"  laughing  in  his  old  way. 

"  And  a  d — d  troublesome  job  you  find  it,  young 
man." 


Carter  Bets  on  Results.  167 

"  Pure  idleness,  or  you  would  not  have  found  me 
here." 

"You  find  this  very  funny — very  funny,  no  doubt,  no 
doubt.  You  are  on  the  staff  of  General  Harry — Harry- 
son,  are  you  ? " 

"  Yes." 

"  Quite  in  his  confidence — so  sprightly  an  officer,  out 
on  a  lark.  You  know  his  plans — his  expectations  ?  " 

"  In  a  general  way — yes.  He  plans  to  defend  his 
position.  He  expects  to  do  it." 

"Good  God,  young  man  !  You  forget  who  I  am.  Do 
you  know  General  Harrison's  plans  ?." 

"  General  Harrison  communicates  so  much  of  his  mind 
as  secures  an  intelligent  execution  of  his  orders  ;  no  more. 
There  is  no  babble  about  his  headquarters.  No  one 
divides  responsibility  with  him." 

"  Ah  !  a  very  Marlborough,  no  doubt.  He  may  wish 
there  was.  You  know  his  present  force  ?  " 

;'  I  knew  what  it  was  at  sundown.  I  do  not  know  what 
it  may  be." 

"  Well,  what  was  it  at  sundown  ?  I'll  answer  for  the 
increase — I  say  I'll  answer  for  the  increase  !  Mind  now 
— I  know  his  exact  force,  to  a  man." 

"  Ah  !  that  relieves  me  from  telling  you. — Thanks." 

"  It  does,  does  it  ?    We'll  see." 

"  One  does  not  like  to  have  his  word  doubted  even  by 
those  he  is  compelled  to  hold  his  enemies.  Were  I  to 
tell  you  the  exact  truth,  you  would  believe  I  intended  to 
deceive  you." 

"  Ah.  ha !  Ah,  ha !  Here  is  a  model  young  man  for 
you,  gentlemen.  I  suppose  you  have  no  objection  to 
telling  me  what  they  were  up  to,  when  you  left  ?  " 


i68  The  Tory's  Daughter. 

"None  in  the  least.  Getting  ready  for  the  battery  you 
are  now  kindly  planting  below  the  ravine,"  carelessly. 

Proctor  glared  around,  but  said  nothing. 

"  You  expect  reinforcements  ? " 

"  We've  room  and  rations  for  a  few  more,"  looking  as 
if  in  the  distance. 

There  were  those  present  who  enjoyed  this  exami 
nation. 

Home  said  in  an  aside — "  Damned  clever  way  of  put 
ting  things." 

"  Yes,"  answered  Warburton.  "  If  he  was  dangling 
after  my  girl,  I'd  shoot  'im  myself,  or  get  it  done" 

Home  glanced  up  at  him,  but  said  nothing. 

Proctor  had  another — his  sole  purpose.  What  it 
really  was  there  is  nothing  to  show,  and  it  was  always 
a  matter  of  dispute  among  his  officers. 

"  Major  Dudley,  you  were  of  the  army  of  invasion, 
retreat,  and  surrender  ?  " 

"  I  was." 

"  You  commanded  the  cavalry  ?  " 

"  I  did." 

"You  are  charged  with  this — that  on  the  i6th  day  of 
August  last,  at  Detroit,  after  the  surrender,  and  before 
rendering  yourself  a  prisoner  of  war,  as  was  your  duty, 
you  escaped,  and  without  exchange  are  now  captured  in 
arms,  and  thereby  have  incurred  the  just  penalty  of 
death.  To  this  what  say  you  ?  " 

"  That  you  have  no  authority  of  any  law  to  thus  arraign 
me-  As  a  prisoner  charged,  I  say  nothing."  A  mo 
ment's  silence.  "  As  a  gentleman  I  am  very  willing  to 
satisfy  a  laudable  curiosity.  I  was  aware  of  the  surren 
der.  I  saw  your  column  advance,  pursuant  to  terms,  I 
presume.  I  walked  away  in  presence  of  your  whole 


Carter  Bets  on  Results.  169 

army,  in  broad  day — through  your  curtain  of  Indians,  all 
seemingly  willing  I  should  go.  I  reached  Frenchtown 
quite  early,  reported  at  once  for  duty.  I  am  captured  in 
the  military  service  of  the  United  States.  I  have  vio 
lated  no  law,  betrayed  no  confidence,  incurred  no  pen 
alty."  Modestly,  yet  spiritedly  this  was  said. 

"  The  prisoner  confesses  the  charge  and  specifications," 
said  Proctor. 

"  He  denies  your  pretence  of  law,  and  defies  your 
authority,"  was  the  reply,  taking  a  step  forward,  with  an 
energetic  downward  sweep  of  his  closed  right  hand,  his 
manner  proud,  scornful,  and  defiant. 

"  As  Commander-in-Chief,  in  presence  of  the  enemy, 
I  assume  the  entire  responsibility.  The  prisoner,  Major 
Dudley,  will  be  shot  to  death  at  sunrise,"  —  truculently. 
"  Major  Muir  will  see  this  order  executed." 

Every  man  in  the  marquee  sprang  to  his  feet,  with 
various  exclamations. 

"  Remove  the  prisoner ;  "  who  stood,  the  only  com 
posed  person  present,  his  face  breaking  into  its  old-time 
laughing  expression. 

As  Gordon  conducted  him  out,  Mr.  Grayson  hurriedly 
passed  them. 

The  party  halted  at  a  camp-fire,  now  quite  deserted, 
where  Home,  very  much  agitated,  joined  it. 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  he  exclaimed  to  Dudley,  seemingly 
much  distressed,  "  was  there  ever  anything  so  deuced 
beastly  ?  " 

"  Outside  the  British  camp,  I  should  say  no,"  was  the 
laughing  answer. 

"  Such  ah of  a—  " 

"  Don't  break  your  heart  over  it,"  said  Dudley,  ironi 
cally. 


170  The   Tory's  Daughter. 

"  My  dear  Major,  you  carry  it  off  d d  splendidly — 

but  don't  deceive  yourself.  You  don't  know  Proctor." 

"  Well,  I  must  be  stupid,  then.  He'll  have  no  idea  of 
shooting  a  man  on  such  an  order,  made  in  such  a  farce." 

Home  solemnly  shook  his  head. 

"  All  right,"  said  Dudley,  examining  his  watch.  "  It's 
some  time  to  sunrise.  Your  camp  may  be  stormed  before 
that  time,"  laughing  carelessly. 

"  Oh,  we'll  look  to  that,"  said  Home,  with  a  start,  spite 
of  himself.  "  Is  there  anything  I  can  say  or  do  ?  "  He 
seemed  nervous  and  anxious.  "  Any  message  ?  " 

"You  are  very  kind,  Captain — nothing  occurs  to  me," 
turning  away,  a  feeling  of  repugnance  to  the  Englishman 
arising  in  his  bosom. 

"Well,  I  shall  do  all  I  can,"  he  persisted  in  saying. 

"  Thanks." 

Home  had  a  few  words  with  Gordon,  aside,  and 
walked  rapidly  away.  As  he  did  so,  Gordon  muttered 
something,  which,  to  Dudley,  sounded  like — "  insufferable 
puppy." 

Gordon  stood  in  thought  an  instant,  and  turning  to 
Dudley,  said  :  "  What  do  you  suppose  Home  said  to  me  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  the  slightest  idea." 

"  He  would  not  have  said  it  now,  had  he  not  wanted 
you  should  hear  of  it — or  hear  it,  I  presume." 

"  Well,  I'm  not  greatly  interested  in  anything  he  may 
say  about  any  earthly  thing.  I  know  him  pretty  well." 

"  Well,  I'm  to  be  relieved  here,  and  while  waiting,  may 
as  well  mention  it.  Well,  '  had  a  certain  American  officer 
known  a  certain  young  lady  was  engaged — you  know ' — 
Oh,  the  d d  puppy  !  " 

"  Well,  there  are  puppies  and  d d  puppies,  and  a 


Carter  Bets  on  Results.  171 

choice  lot  beyond,"  added  Dudley,  laughing.  "  When 
the  thing  you  intimate  occurs,  I'll  send  congratulations." 

An  officer  approached  and  saluted.  Gordon  turned  to 
Dudley.  "  My  dear  Dudley,  I  am  sure  we  shall  meet 
again ;  until  then,  good-bye,  luck  go  with  you,"  extending 
his  hand. 

"  We  shall  meet,  my  dear  boy,  and  I  shall  remember 
you  as  long  as  I  live."  They  shook  hands,  and  Gordon, 
dismissing  his  soldiers  to  their  quarters,  turned  to  his 
own. 

The  relieving  officer  touched  his  plumeless  hat  to  the 
prisoner,  saying  in  a  business  way,  "  I  am  to  show  you 
quarters  for  the  night ;  not  all  I  could  wish,  Major  Dud 
ley." 

"  I  am  quite  at  your  service.  You'll  find  me  not  diffi 
cult  to  please."  He  saw  nothing  to  indicate  the  rank 
though  the  bearing  of  the  stranger  was  distinguished. 

"The  place  is  a  little  distant;  you  will  find  some  con 
veniences  there,  to  compensate — may  make  something  out 
of  them."  The  tone  of  this  speech — the  latter  part,  was 
peculiar. 

The  two  officers,  preceded  by  two  soldiers  and  a  ser 
geant,  and  followed  by  two  more,  lighted  now  by  a  torch, 
moved  past  the  tents,  the  last  sentinel,  past  some  trees, 
struck  a  well-beaten,  though  now  little  used,  path,  which 
led  along  the  slope  of  the  second  bank  in  a  way  to 
ascend  considerably  and  among  trees.  They  passed  a 
dark  structure,  and  reached  a  second,  which  they  ap 
proached.  The  torch  disclosed  a  door-way,  now  open. 
Here  they  entered.  The  sergeant  produced  and  lit  two 
small  metal  lamps  which  he  placed  on  a  table  within. 
By  their  light  the  room  looked  large  and  cheerless.  Two 
or  three  blankets  were  lying  near  the  table,  on  which  was 


172  The   Tory  s  Daughter. 

a  refection  of  bread,  cold  meat,  and  a  bottle  of  wine,  or 
spirits,  with  a  tin  cup.  Dudley's  idea  was  that  the  apart 
ment  was  new  and  unfinished,  or  old  and  dilapidated, 
though  the  air  was  fresh. 

"  I  hope  you  will  find  things  to  suit  you.  I  commend 
the  prog ;  you  may  need  it.  The  wine  is  specially  good. 
I  will  close  the  door  as  I  go  out.  The  guards  will  not 
trouble  you.  Good  night." 

He  turned  and  drew  the  door  to  behind  him,  gave  his 
orders  to  the  guards  left  in  charge,  and  Dudley  heard  his 
footsteps  an  instant,  as  he  moved  away.  Apparently 
sentinels  were  placed,  one  in  front  and  one  on  each  side 
of  the  building. 

Dudley  glanced  around  him.  The  room  was  large, 
without  windows,  of  much  depth,  and  had  several  angles. 
His  mind  was  active,  at  first  summarizing  the  happenings 
of  the  evening,  and  after  this  fashion — "  Well,  Cliff  my 
boy — this  is  an  experience  for  one  evening.  A  declara 
tion,  a  rejection  of  course,  a  capture,  trial,  found  guilty, 
sentenced  to  be  shot^  and  " — consulting  his  watch — "  not 
yet  eleven  o'clock — and  here  I  am.  I  wonder  how  I 
should  have  got  out  of  it,  had  it  not  been  for  Gordon — 
Little  Gordon,  the  boys  all  call  him.  Pure  gold,  he 
couldn't  be  large.  It  was  a  deuced  awkward  place,  reject 
a  man  and  not  let  him  go.  On  the  whole  Gordon  inter 
vened  in  my  favor.  This  " — looking  around — "  is  pref 
erable  to  that."  Then  his  mind  jumped  to  the  present 
conditions.  "  If  Carter  was  captured,  it  would  be  kept 
from  me.  He  is  not.  He  could  not  be.  No  one  could 
find  him  but  Anita.  She  told  Tecumseh  of  my  getting 
away  from  Detroit — from  the  fort ;  she'll  tell  of  this. 
This  is  some  of  Home's  work.  Well  I  don't  wish  Miss 
Grayson  such  a  fate.  Oh,  dear !  Oh,  dear  !  and  oh  dear 


Carter  Bets  on  Results.  173 

again.  Cliff  old  boy — if  I  catch  you  whining — self-pity- 
ng — if  I  do  catch  you — mind  !  Well,  he  hoped  I'd  find 
conveniences — compensating  conveniences  for  the  long 
walk — so  I  am  remote  and  am  to  find  conveniences.  Make 
something  out  of  them — out."  He  breathed  a  low  whistle. 
"  The  guards  not  to  be  troublesome.  I  would  like  the 
prog ;  the  wine  good.  I'll  try  'em  and  then  look  a  little 
into  these  same  conveniences — Thanks,"  uncovering  a 
savory  joint  of  cold  meat,  which  he  ate  of  with  relish. 
Then  he  tried  the  bottle,  in  which  the  cork  had  been 
started.  On  removing  it,  and  lifting  to  test  by  its  fra 
grance — "  Brandy,  for  the  world  !  well  there  is  meaning 
in  that.  I'd  better  take  some — the  bottle,  if  the  conveni 
ences  to  compensate — "  a  slight  sound  had  once  or  twice 
reached  his  ear.  "  A  rat  ?  and  '  dead  for  ducket.'  It's 
not  that — sounds  more  as  if  something  or  somebody 
wanted  my  attention.  I  really  have  little  else  to  do. 
Eleven,"  examining  and  returning  his  watch.  Then 
his  mind  took  another  freak.  "  Grayson  !  How  I  was 
sold  !  one  of  the  Boston  Tory  Graysons.  Was  that  his 
voice  ?  and  I  thought  he  brushed  past  me.  '  Shot  to 
death  at  sunrise  ? '  what  a  truculent  old  duffer.  '  Duffer, 
a  dealer  in  contraband ' — Eh  !  Not  rats  certainly,"  as 
something  like  drawing  a  stick  along  a  wall  or  hard  sur 
face,  in  the  dim  back  distance,  beyond  the  light  of  his 
lamps  reached  his  ear.  He  took  a  slight  sip  of  the 
generous  liquor,  whose  bouquet  imparted  its  fruity  flavor 
to  the  atmosphere  about  him.  Some  of  it  he  turned 
upon  his  bread,  and  then  listened  for  a  time  to  the  faint 
tread  of  the  sentinel,  pacing  slowly  forward  and  back 
ward  in  front  of  the  door,  apparently  making  a  beat  of 
thirty  or  forty  feet ;  the  only  steps  he  could  hear.  Then 
he  turned  back,  leaving  the  lamps — outside  eyes  might 


1/4  The  Torys  Daughter. 

be  on  him.     He  would  not  aid  them  by  lighting  his  way. 

He  passed  back  to  an  angle  where  he  fancied  was  a 
door,  whence  came  the  sounds  he  had  heard.  It  was  an 
open  passage  way,  and  dark.  There  as  he  looked  stead 
ily  into  it  he  saw  the  shadowy  outline  of  a  man.  A  hand 
seemed  to  beckon  him.  He  stepped  boldly  forward  and 
clasped  the  extended  member,  which  drew  him  willingly 
forward.  As  they  moved  along  the  totally  dark  way  he 
heard  a  volley  of  five  or  six  guns  outside,  immediately 
followed  by  shots  from  the  sentinels.  Soon  a  ladder  was 
reached,  up  which  went  the  silent  form  of  mystery,  and 
Dudley  followed.  Very  many  rounds  were  ascended  and 
an  upper  floor  gained,  over  which  he  was  led  to  an  out 
side  opening.  Dudley  had  entered  at  the  east  end.  This 
was  in  the  west.  From  this,  the  guide  stepped  out, 
followed  by  the  American,  who  found  himself  on  the  edge 
of  the  high  table-land,  sweeping  indefinitely  away,  from 
the  bluff.  The  firing  was  from  the  river  side.  The  alarm 
reached  the  camp,  whence  came  sounds  of  men  getting 
under  arms.  The  guide  stood  still  and  silent  the  fourth 
of  a  minute. 

"  My  young  brother  is  safe,"  then  he  said,  in  a  low, 
musical  voice  which  the  American  knew. 

"  Shawanoe  !  — Tecumseh  !  "  breathed  Dudley  in  won 
der  and  delight.  "Next  the  Great  Spirit,  Dudley 
thanks  his  elder  brother  !  "  with  fervor  these  words  were 
spoken. 

"  My  brother  trusts  Tecumseh  ?  " 

"  As  he  would  God." 

The  chief  led  him  westward  a  few  yards,  moving  noise 
lessly  and  then  turned  northward.  The  drums  beat  in 
the  camp  and  the  commotion  increased. 

"  My  English  Father,  General   Proctor,  is  disturbed  in 


Carter  Bets  on  Results.  175 

his  sleep,"  said  the  chief  contemptuously.  "  His  senti 
nels  will  hear  nothing  but  his  drums  now."  Some  dis 
tance  was  gained,  and  in  the  darkness  of  the  wood, 
safety.  They  reached  the  little  ravine  in  the  rear  of  the 
Grayson  tents,  and  paused, 

"  Shawanoe  does  not  take  back  a  gift, "  he  said  a 
little  sadly,  placing  a  small  parcel,  containing  the  decora 
tion  of  the  German  Princess,  in  Dudley's  hand. 

"  General,"  said  the  greatly  moved  youth,  receiving  it 
and  grasping  the  chiefs  hand,  "  for  this,  for  your  most 
generous  aid  last  summer,  how  can  I  ever  thank  you — 
repay  you  ? " 

"  When  not  in  battle,  be  kind  to  my  poor  Indians." 

"  As  the  Great  Spirit  aids  me,  so  will  I  ever." 

"  My  English  brother,  Mr.  Grayson,  told  me.  My 
brother  owes  him  thanks." 

"  I  am  very,  very  glad.  Tell  him  how  glad  I  am  to 
thank  him." 

"  And  my  little  sister  ?  " 

"  Dudley  is  very  grateful  to  her ;  loves  her  as  a  true 
sister.  I  owe  her  many  thanks." 

"  My  brother  glads  Tecumseh's  heart.  My  English 
sister  ? " 

He  paused  for  an  answer.  None  came.  "  My  young 
brother's  soul  is  dark  toward  her.  Tecumseh  can  now 
walk  this  wood  as  in  the  sunshine.  He  does  not  know 
the  way  of  a  woman's  heart.  My  young  brother  is  very 
brave,  is  very  comely  in  men's  and  women's  eyes.  No 
woman  in  her  heart  scorns  him.  His  scout  waits.  He 
may  sound  his  signal." 

Dudley  placed  a  small  instrument  to  his  lips,  and  pro 
duced  a  good  imitation  of  the  peculiar  whistle  of  the 


176  The  Torys  Daughter. 

small  brown  owl,  heard  usually  only  in  the  early  part  of 
the  evening. 

"  Good  !  "  said  the  chief.  "  Late  in  the  night  for  that 
call." 

Dudley  repeated  it,  and  received  it  back  as  an  echo, 
from  the  upper  part  of  the  ravine.  The  chief  passed 
noiselessly  toward  the  river,  where  a  canoe  with  a 
single  rower,  received  and  passed  him  to  the  east  side. 
Dudley  could  see  the  ghostly  sheen  of  the  Grayson  tents, 
through  the  trees,  not  fifty  yards  distant,  and  heard  the 
mingled  notes  of  the  frogs,  the  croakers  and  hylodes, 
from  the  river's  margin.  It  seemed  a  month,  a  year — an 
age,  since  he  had  passed  down  this  glen  conducted  by  the 
Indian  maiden,  toward  these  tents  that  then  seemed  to 
glow  and  invite — so  cold  and  repellant  now.  A  change 
of  the  world,  of  life  and  hope  had  come  upon  him  since 
then.  He  turned  from  the  pale  uncertain  shimmer,  to 
Carter,  moving  down  to  him  at  the  trysting  tree.  They 
met  and  stole  away  in  silence. 

Ere  they  gained  a  distance  which  made  oral  confidence 
prudent,  the  acute  perception  of  the  scout  received  the 
impression  that  the  usually  light,  elastic  youth,  from 
whom  he  parted  so  fresh  and  buoyant,  and  now  found 
in  a  drooping,  languid  form,  must  have  received  a  hurt. 
At  length,  when  he  felt  secure — 

"  Wounded  ? " 

"  No.     Why  ? " 

"  I  never  seen  ye  so  pimpin  like." 

To  this"  no  answer.  The  old  hunter  with  the  young 
man  whom  he  loved  as  the  pet  youngest  of  the  family — 
the  crown  of  human  perfection — now  certainly  safe,  felt 
like  giving  an  Indian  whoop.  Something  had  gone 
wrong.  He  would  liven  him  up  with  cheerful  talk. 


Carter  Bets  on  Results.  177 

"  Pears  to  me,  Major,  like  'twas  a  darned  dose  shave" 

"Well,  interesting — rather." 

"  How'd  ye  spose  they  found  it  out  enny  way  ? " 

"  By  one  of  the  girls — possibly." 

"  No,  no,  Major.  Wimin  is  safe — purty  ginerly.  That 
Ingin  gal — wal  a  feller  couldn't  do  better — ef  he  could 
git  'er — if  'e  wanted  'er — that  is." 

"  She  is  for  no  feller"  said  the  major,  quickened  with 
the  idea  that  a  feller  could  aspire  to  this  splendid  dark 
princess  of  the  forest.  "  Why  she  is  the  niece  of  Tecum- 
seh  !  " 

"  Du  tell !  wal  I  never  !  " 

"  Who  do  you  suppose  Shawanoe  is  ?  Did  you  ever 
think  of  that  ?  " 

"  Wal,  I've  spicioned,  then  agin  I  dunno." 

"  He  is  Tecumseh  himself." 

"  Wal,  I'd  kinder  thought  mebby,"  showing  less  sur 
prise  than  Dudley  expected. 

"  He  told  me  so.     Called  himself  Tecumseh  to  me." 

"  O-h  !  So  that's  his  work — is  it  ? " — referring  to 
the  alarm.  "  So  that's  Tecumsey  !  Wal !  Wal !  Wal !  " 
as  if  to  himself. 

"  Now,  Carter — see  here.  Neither  you  or  I  can  kill  or 
capture  Tecumseh — no  matter  what  the  chance  is." 

"  All  right.  It  seems  only  fair.  They  do  say  though, 
Major,  he  an'  ole  Proc.  has  agreed,  when  they  take  Gin- 
eral  Harrisin,  the  Ingins  shall  burn  'im." 

"  I  know  it ;  and  men  who  know  better,  believe  it. 
Why  should  he  rescue  me  ? " 

"  Wal,  I  has  my  notion  o'  that.  Why'd  'e  take  ye 
away  frum  the  Huern  ?  " 

This  touched  a  hurt,  and  Dudley  made  no  answer. 

"  How  did  you  know  what  happened  to  me  to-night  ?  " 


178  The  Torys  Daughter. 

"  The  Ingin  gal  tole  me." 

"  Oh,  she  did  !  Bless  her  heart !  I  thought  so.  How 
did  she  suppose  the  British  found  out  I  was  there  ?  " 

"  Hadn't  no  idee.  She  thinks  Capen  Home  some 
way — " 

"  Ah  !  Tecumseh  warned  me  of  him  on  the  Huron." 

"  Home  ?  Wai,  'e  ain't  to  be  spaired  is  'e  ? "  with  a 
laugh. 

"  He  is  to  marry  our  Miss  Gray — so  they  say.  So  he 
says." 

"  Bah  !  a  hundred  times  to  that —  Ye  seen  'er  uv 
course  ?  " 

"  She  was  utterly  surprised  at  seeing  me.  She  had  no 
way  of  letting  my  presence  be  known,  if  she  had  wanted 
to." 

"  I  guess  she  didn't !  Wy,  Majer — bless  'er  eyes,  she'd 
give  one  on  'em  fer  ye  enny  time,  only  y'ed  ruther  have 
it  w'ere  it  is.  Don't  tell  me  !  " 

"  Well,  Carter,  I  wouldn't  risk  an  empty  egg-shell  that 
she  cares  for  me."  The  poor  young  man  could  not  help 
saying  so  much. 

"  Oh,  pshaw  !  fellers  an  gals — gals  speshaly — has  ter 
hev  a  time  o'  playin  off  like  a  fox  savin  'er  pups, 
an'  she  draws  ye  off  an'  on.  Mebby  ye  sed  suthin,  or  ye 
didn't,  'er  done  suthin,  or  let  it  alone ;  'er  'twant  the 
right  way,  ye  took  'er  wrong — a  feller  never  knows  they 
say.  I'll  bet  a  dozzen  bear  skins  to  a  musquash  tail, 
she'd  jump  to  have  ye  the  fust  chance — now." 

Dudley  heard  Carter's  analysis  of  a  )'oung  lady's  nature 
with  amazement.  He  always  gave  him  credit  for  large 
acquired  practical  wisdom.  This  must  be  intuitive  ;  the 
unused  wisdom  stored  in  men's  natures.  What  he  said 
was — 


Carter  Bets  on  Results.  179 

"  All  right.  I  will  take  that  bet.  Just  now,  I  don't 
care  whether  I  win  or  lose." 

"  Oh,  that's  where  ye'r  hurt !  Wai,  I'll  make  anuther 
bet.  Fifty  deer  skins  ye'll  ask  'er, — if  the  ole  gent  don't 
gin  'er  to  ye  fust." 

"  I'll  take  that  too,"  laughing  now  at  Carter's  grotesque 
absurdities. 

"  Oh,  I  know  now  jes  how  'twas.  Ye's  havin  one  o' 
them  air  times,  an'  the  British  cum  an  kerried  ye  off  fore 
'twas  through — that's  jest  it  now,  want  it,  Majer  ? "  laugh 
ing  heartily. 

"  Well,  something  like,  I  do  believe  ;  "  a  good  deal 
brightened  by  Carter's  conversation,  and  wondering  what 
had  come  over  the  old  man. 

They  now  approached  the  river  above  the  camp,  where 
was  hidden  their  birch  canoe,  and  much  caution  was 
necessary.  They  traversed  the  Maumee  and  the  camp 
was  gained  in  safety. 

It  was  late,  or,  accurately,  early,  when  they  gained 
entrance.  Dudley  had  much  information  for  his  general. 

He  opened  the  parcel  given  him  by  the  chief.  It 
contained  the  German  decoration,  with  a  change  of  the 
suspending  ribbon,  not  then  observed.  Edith  and  the 
thought  of  her  love  were  now  to  be  put  by  for  all  time. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

DAY   OF   BATTLES — THE   MEETING. 

BRIGHTLY  broke  the  third  morning  of  the  siege  on 
forest,  river,  plain  and  the  hostile  camps.  In  the 
British  there  was  the  flavor  of  the  last  night's  racket,  the 
cause  of  which  was  a  mystery  to  man  and  officer.  The 
soldiers  saw  by  the  camp  fires,  a  gay  young  officer  in 
closely  fitting  blue,  marched  to  and  from  the  general's 
marquee.  The  higher  officers  knew  something  more.  As 
stated,  the  real  purpose  of  the  general  was  matter  of 
speculation,  and  various  comments  and  asides  were 
indulged  in.  It  was  known  the  prisoner  had  escaped, 
and  generally  supposed  to  have  been  by  an  attack  of  his 
own  party.  Proctor  so  far  as  known,  beyond  setting  on 
foot  a  perfunctory  inquiry,  never  spoke  of  the  fate  of  his 
prisoner.  Certainly  his  papers  and  despatches  contain 
no  reference  to  him. 

Some  supposed  the  disturbance  was  a  wholly  inde 
pendent  thing.  "  Some  of  Dickson's  Indians  came  upon 
an  out-picket,  and  were  fired  on."  "  Dickson's  Indians  " 
were  usually  responsible  for  the  awkward  things  which  no 
one  would  father. 

Proctor  was  in  good  temper  that  morning  and  merely 
remarked,  "D — n  'em,  I'll  show  'em.  When  they  surren 
der  this  time  there'll  be  no  leaking  out,  I'll  bet,"  which 
may  have  referred  to  the  adventure  of  the  night  before. 

1 80 


Day  of  Battles — The  Meeting.  181 

With  daylight  the  batteries  on  the  eastern  side  opened 
on  palisades  and  another  grand  traverse  of  earth.  It 
was  annoying  as  well  as  baffling.  The  cannonade  from 
all  the  siege  guns,  mortars  and  cohorns  was  loud  and 
furious  all  day  and  all  night,  pounding  and  resounding  in 
senseless  rage  and  noise,  the  American  replying  from 
his  lighter  guns  as  occasion  presented  the  chance  of  an 
effective  shot,  showing  that  had  they  been  well  armed 
and  supplied,  their  enemy  would  have  suffered  severely 
in  his  exposed  batteries. 

All  day  and  all  night,  and  all  the  morning  of  the  fourth 
day,  when  a  flag  of  truce  showed  from  the  heavy  battery, 
and  all  the  guns,  mortars  and  cohorns  were  silent. 

"  Ah  !  "  said  the  American  general,  ordering  an  answer 
ing  flag.  "  So  having  demonstrated  his  inability  to  harm 
me,  I  am  to  be  now,  politely — after  the  manner  of  an  Eng 
lishman,  asked  to  submit.  Such  a  demand  two  days  ago 
would  have  been  more  logical.  Well,  Dudley,  they  are 
old  friends  of  yours.  You  shall  do  the  honors.  They 
must  be  anxious  for  your  health,  and  will  be  very  glad  to 
see  you,"  he  said,  laughing  pleasantly. 

A  boat  with  a  flag  approached  in  line  of  the  enemy's 
eastern  battery,  and  in  due  time  the  insignia  appeared  at 
the  margin  of  the  forest,  300  yards  away.  There  it  was 
met  by  Dudley  with  an  escort.  Warburton  and  Home 
bore  Proctor's  message. 

The  Ohio  men  who  manned  the  fort,  the  young 
Kentucky  officers  of  Harrison's  family,  to  whom  formal 
war  and  its  usages  were  new,  with  eager  eyes  followed 
the  form  of  his  officer  as  he  moved  ever  the  ground, 
blackened  from  the  late  burning  of  the  trees  which 
recently  covered  it.  Many  thought  it  a  lure  to  regain 
possession  of  his  person,  having  heard  some  rumors 


1 82  The   Torys  Daughter. 

of  his  night's  adventure.  Very  many  expected  to  see 
him  fall  under  the  guns  of  the  Indians.  Hundreds  of 
savage  eyes  flashed  from  the  forest,  on  the  little  party  as 
it  passed. 

The  officers  exchanged  the  formal  salutations  of  flags, 
and  moved  toward  the  fort,  the  English  guard  remaining 
at  the  forest's  edge. 

Home's  face  was  a  study  that  morning  to  some  of  the 
juniors  in  camp.  It  was  schooled  very  well,  and  he  may 
have  anticipated  who  would  meet  him.  Dudley  received 
him  with  the  gay  frankness  of  the  Ohio  days.  Warbur- 
ton  scanned  him  many  times  and  saw  small  signs  of  the 
rejected  lover,  the  condemned,  twice-sentenced,  of  the 
late  adventure.  Home  also,  as  opportunity  occurred, 
studied  his  face  and  manner  with  a  wondering  curiosity. 

As  they  approached  the  gate  to  which  they  were  con 
ducted,  Warburton  lingered  for  the  expected  bandage. 

"  Oh,  it  is  not  necessary,"  said  the  American.  "  It  is 
your  one  chance,"  laughing. 

Thought  may  have  been  taken  for  the  appearance 
inside  to  be  seen  by  the  Englishmen ;  while  everything 
was  in  its  usual  form  the  men  nevertheless  grouped  and 
conducted  themselves,  so  as  to  do  no  discredit  to  their 
officers. 

An  arch  led  through  the  eastern  grand  traverse  and  up 
the  wide  avenue  to  the  general's  marquee,  the  entrance 
of  which  was  broadly  open,  showing  the  chief,  and  a 
glittering  staff,  ready  to  receive  the  enemy's  summons. 

The  embassy  advanced  with  a  grave  dignity.  Warbur 
ton,  whose  rank  by  blood  entitled  him  to  be  received  by 
his  prince,  himself  a  superior  man,  took  a  rapid  survey  of 
the  American  general,  and  carried  away  a  satisfactory 
impression.  Above  the  ordinary  height,  broad  browed, 


Day  of  Battles — The  Meeting.  183 

fine  head  carried  well,  handsome  features,  large,  dark, 
lustrous  eyes,  which  notwithstanding  their  size  flashed 
with  the  quick,  assured  glance  of  one  accustomed  to 
observe  everything  and  note  for  himself,  and  which 
matched  well  with  his  dark,  clear  complexion ;  broad 
shouldered,  yet  light  and  active,  he  would  be  a  marked 
figure  anywhere. 

The  Englishmen  halted  at  the  prescribed  point.  Dud 
ley,  plumed  chapeau  in  hand,  stepped  forward,  with  a 
graceful  inclination  to  his  chief,  turned  to  the  Britons, 
announced  them  by  their  titles,  names  and  present  office, 
and  moved  aside. 

The  English  officers  bowed  with  the  dignity  of  their 
mission,  and  Colonel  Warburton  said  : 

"  General  Proctor,  commanding  the  British  forces  now 
investing  this  place,  requires  that  it  be  unconditionally 
surrendered  to  him.  I  am  instructed  to  make  this  de 
mand  of  General  Harrison,  here  commanding." 

This  was  well  and  impressively  delivered. 

"  Your  general  doubtless  feels  warranted  in  making 
this  demand,"  replied  Harrison,  in  a  cool,  sonorous  voice, 
with  a  slight  smile  playing  around  the  large  bland 
mouth.  "  I  feel  warranted  in  declining  to  entertain  it  for 
one  moment." 

"  General  Proctor  has  a  large,  well  appointed  force,  and 
ample  material,"  urged  the  Englishman. 

"  His  entire  available  means  are  immediately  before 
me.  He  has  a  low  estimate  of  my  intelligence,  if  he 
supposes  I  have  now  to  learn  their  extent,  and  from  him 
self.  He  certainly  has  afforded  me  ample  opportunity  to 
judge  his  power  of  annoying  me."  Almost  playfully  this 
was  said,  a  smile  lighting  up  the  fine  face  now  decidedly. 

"  General  Harrison  is  too  good  a  soldier  not  to   know 


1 84  The   Torys  Daughter. 

that  General  Proctor  as  yet  has  employed  but  one  of 
several  means  of  annoyance,"  added  the  Englishman  a 
little  sarcastically. 

"I  shall  await  his  change  of  tactics  with  composure. 
Say  to  your  general  if  he  ever  acquires  this  place,  it 
will  be  by  means  infinitely  more  creditable  to  him  than 
a  thousand  surrenders.  His  demand  is  unqualifiedly 
refused." 

"  I  regret  to  bear  this  answer  to  my  general,"  with  a 
leave-taking  inclination  of  the  head. 

"  I  should  be  unhappy  were  I  compelled  to  send  him 
any  other,"  with  a  courteous  wave  of  the  plumed  chapeau. 

Dudley  returned  the  British  officers  to  their  guard. 
They  were  on  the  whole  favorably  impressed  by  the 
American  and  his  surroundings.  Obviously  his  camp 
would  be  won  by  the  hardest.  The  general,  as  Warbur- 
ton  saw,  had  the  qualities  to  make  a  successful  com 
mander  of  irregular  troops.  Spirited,  fearless,  popular,  a 
born  orator,  though  he  heard  none  of  the  free  forms  of 
speech  that  startled  some  of  the  Western  Reserve  Puri 
tans,  and  which  seemed  graceful  from  his  lips  even  to 
them. 

Silently  the  embassadors,  attended  by  Dudley,  moved 
back  to  the  point  of  meeting.  A  few  words  only  were 
spoken  between  Home  and  the  American  as  they  ap 
proached  the  English  guard,  not  of  the  slightest  signifi 
cance.  The  leave-taking  would  have  been  silent,  but  as 
the  Englishmen  turned  away,  Dudley  laughingly  called 
out  to  Home — "  Wai,  look  out !  " 

"  Oh !  "  he  exclaimed,  called  back  by  the  remembered 
words.  "  I  see  old  Carter  is  with  you." 

"  Of  course  he  is." 

"  Ah  !  "  reflectively.     "  I  might  have  known.     I  echo — 


Day  of  Battles — The  Meeting.  185 

'  wal,  look  out.'  "  With  this  reminiscence,  the  younger 
officers  parted.  The  flags  of  truce  were  struck,  and  the 
artillery  re-awakened  the  echoes. 

There  had  been  much  running  through  the  woods  by 
Harrison's  scouts  and  runners,  as  up  and  down  the 
Maumee,  by  Captain  Oliver,  young  Combs,  and  others. 
Some  got  through  Tecumseh's  net-work  of  Indians,  some 
failed,  some  fell. 

General  Green  Clay  was  at  Winchester  (Defiance) 
with  1200  Kentuckians.  Proctor's  guns  were  heard 
there,  and  he  prepared  to  sweep  down  the  river  to  Harri 
son's  aid.  He  had  eighteen  scow-boats,  the  sides  of 
which  were  built  high  enough,  with  thick  wooden  shields, 
to  protect  from  Indian  gunnery.  In  these  he  embarked 
his  entire  force,  and  reached  the  upper  end  of  the 
Rapids  at  the  close  of  this  day  of  the  siege,  which  was  the 
fourth  of  the  young  May,  also.  The  intention  was  to  re 
sume  the  voyage  so  as  to  reach  the  landing  at  the  fort, 
at  daylight  of  the  fifth,  eighteen  or  twenty  miles  below. 
During  that  night  he  communicated  with  Harrison,  and 
received  an  answer  and  orders.  These  required  him  to 
land  800  men  a  half  mile  above  the  fort  on  the  British 
side  under  the  senior  colonel,  attack,  carry  the  batteries, 
spike  and  dismount  the  guns,  return  to  their  boats,  cross 
over  and  fight  their  way  into  the  fort.  The  terms  were 
direct  and  clear,  admitting  of  no  discretion.  The  residue, 
400,  were  to  land  on  the  fort  side  and  at  once  push  for 
the  camp.  The  forces  in  camp  would  be  held  in  hand, 
to  aid  the  admission  of  the  Kentuckians.  This  accom 
plished,  a  sortie  of  the  regulars,  under  Miller,  was  to  carry 
the  batteries  on  that  side,  and  disable  the  guns.  The 
plan  was  bold  and  skilful.  Its  execution  dependent  on 
raw  troops  so  far  as  Clay  was  concerned,  of  unquestioned 


1 86  The  Tory's  Daughter. 

fighting  qualities,  the  kindred  of  those  who  fell  at  French- 
town,  and  with  them  represented  the  best  blood  of  Ken 
tucky. 

Care  will  be  necessary  to  a  clear  apprehension  of  the 
events  of  the  day,  happening  on  both  sides  of  the  river, 
at  the  same  time,  and  for  which  a  map  and  diagram  are 
necessary. 

Tecumseh  was  not  apprised  of  the  approach  of  the 
Kentuckians,  but  he  will  be  found  ready.  If  they  reach 
the  fort,  numbers  would  be  equalized  with  the  advantage 
of  artillery  and  discipline  on  one  side,  more  than  balanced 
by  position  on  the  other. 

Five  miles  above  Camp  Meigs,  the  programme,  with 
full  instructions,  was  placed  in  Clay's  hands.  His  boats 
advanced  in  the  order  of  intended  action.  The  twelve 
first  carried  the  men  who  were  to  storm  and  disable  the 
batteries  on  the  British  side,  situated  the  best  part  of  two 
miles  above  Proctor's  camp,  the  approaches  to  which 
were  covered  by  the  heavy  forest  of  the  region. 

The  senior  colonel  of  Clay,  save  in  personal  courage, 
was  unequal  to  an  enterprise  so  simple  as  this,  unfort 
unately  committed  to  his  hand.  He  landed,  formed 
in  three  columns,  with  Combs'  company  of  spies  and 
Logan's  Indians,  armed  with  rifles,  in  advance.  Beyond 
the  order  to  carry  the  guns,  wherever  found,  he  gave  no 
directions  or  instructions  to  his  officers  in  command,  but 
pushed  forward.  It  seems  that  Combs  and  the  left 
column  passed  the  batteries  in  their  rear.  When  the 
colonel's  immediate  command  discovered  the  enemy,  the 
Kentuckians  raised  the  Indian  war  whoop,  and  made  a 
rush.  Lightly  supported,  taken  by  surprise,  the  gunners 
were  slain  and  scattered  in  a  breath.  The  colonel 
should  then  have  disabled  the  guns,  recalled  his  men, 


Day  of  Battles — The  Meeting,  187 

hurried  to  his  boats,  and  hastened  to  the  camp.  The 
woods  on  that  side  were  full  of  Indians,  with  over  a 
thousand  soldiers  just  out  of  rifle  shot  below.  What  he 
did  was  to  pull  down  the  British  flag,  and  give  three 
cheers,  which  were  answered  by  three  from  Camp  Meigs, 
when  his  men,  curious,  broke  and  scattered  about,  ex 
amining  things,  careless  of  their  exposed  position  and 
duty. 

Harrison  from  the  platform  of  his  main  battery,  saw 
everything,  and  signalled  the  captors  to  hurry  toward  his 
camp,  in  vain.  Already  he  heard  the  notes  of  getting 
under  arms,  in  the  British  camp,  and  the  position  of  the 
Kentuckians  was  critical  in  the  extreme.  They  would 
neither  see,  hear,  or  know.  Major  Dudley  was  at  his 
general's  side,  sharing  his  anxiety.  He  volunteered  to 
cross  and  personally  recall  the  incapable  colonel,  and 
summoning  Carter,  hurried  to  execute  his  purpose. 
Events  on  the  British  side  were  rapidly  reaching  a  bloody 
climax  in  advance  of  him. 

The  whoop  of  the  Kentuckians  went  with  startling 
effect  through  the  woods,  reached  the  English  camp  and 
the  ear  of  every  Indian  within  miles  of  them.  Each 
warrior  sprang  to  his  weapons.  Every  soldier  at  the 
instant  drum  beat,  was  in  place  to  meet  whatever  men- 
anced  them.  Tecumseh  thought  it  a  signal  not  only  of 
an  assault  of  their  batteries,  instantly  silenced,  but  an 
attack  upon  Proctor's  camp  by  a  force  which  warranted 
it. 

Then  came  the  cheers  and  answering  cheers  of  the 
Americans.  Combs  came  upon  the  nearest  Indians,  and 
rushed  to  attack  them,  as  a  Kentuckian  would.  His 
enemy  gave  way,  he  pursued,  and  was  surrounded.  His 
countrymen  flew  to  his  aid  and  beat  the  enemy  back. 


1 88  The  Torys  Daughter. 

Their  blood  was  now  heated.  No  thought  of  turning  back 
occurred  to  them.  The  slight  tie  of  discipline  was  dis 
solved.  They  were  in  the  woods,  which  soon  resounded 
with  shots  and  yells,  and  answering  shots  and  yells, 
which  for  a  time  beat  downward  toward  the  British  camp, 
and  the  whole  wood  became  a  wild  scene  of  conflict, 
between  many  hundreds  fighting  as  individuals. 

Here  for  the  time  we  leave  the  British  side  of  the  river. 
The  alarm  of  the  British  camp,  as  stated,  reached 
Tecumseh  and  his  warriors  on  the  American  shore.  He 
called  a  few  chiefs  and  warriors,  rushed  to  the  river 
below  the  fort,  and  pushed  across,  passed  over  the 
island  in  the  middle  of  the  river,  and  gained  the  British 
shore  below  the  battery,  taking  the  wildly  fighting 
Kentuckians  in  the  flank  and  rear. 

Thus  the  remaining  of  Clay's  command  would  land 
in  the  absence  of  the  great  chief,  whose  war  cry  was  as 
potent  as  the  bugle  blast  of  Roderick  Dbu  : — 

"  One  blast  upon  his  bugle  horn, 
Was  worth  a  thousand  men." 

The  bank  on  that  side  was  precipitous,  the  current 
rapid,  even  near  the  shore,  and  two  of  the  remaining 
boats  failed  to  make  the  intended  landing,  a  half  mile 
above  the  fort,  and  could  not  securely  strike  the  shore 
until  opposite  the  upper  angles  of  the  camp,  thus  dividing 
the  party.  Both  parties  were  sharply  assailed  by  Indians. 
Both  were  armed  with  the  effective  musket  and  bayonet 
of  that  day,  were  fresh,  spirited,  and  well  handled. 
Each  of  the  thus  separated  parties  formed  and  charged 
up,  gaining  the  table  land.  Indians  have  never  been 
known  to  meet  and  successfully  resist  a  body  of  deter 
mined  men,  in  this  formation,  too  numerous  to  be  sue- 


Day  of  Battles — The  Meeting.  189 

cessfully  flanked.  There  really  was  great  peril  to  the 
soldiers  of  both  parties.  Hesitation  or  confusion  would 
have  been  fatal  to  either.  Each  heard  the  war  of  the 
other.  The  Indians  had  to  divide  their  force  to  meet 
both.  Clay's  party  was  not  distant  when  the  smaller 
gained  the  plain,  and  they  were  soon  reunited  under  their 
general,  when  they  turned  against  the  fierce,  determined 
foe,  on  their  own  ground,  under  cover  of  the  forest.  The 
Kentuckians  bore  their  assailants  steadily  backward  for 
more  than  half  a  mile,  with  small  loss  on  either  side. 

The  watchful  Harrison  from  his  elevated  position, 
commanding  the  widely  separated  scenes  of  conflict,  dis 
covered  a  body  of  British  soldiers  and  warriors,  advanc 
ing  under  the  bank  of  the  river  from  below,  to  cut  off  the 
access  of  the  Kentuckians  to  the  fort,  by  gaining  their 
rear,  when  he  ordered  a  recall  of  the  pursuing  soldiers, 
and  his  sortie  to  be  made  by  Miller  and  the  regulars  of 
the  4th. 

On  the  west  side  it  will  be  remembered  that  the 
Kentuckians,  with  barely  thirty  days  in  camp,  at  sight  of 
the  Indians,  attacked  furiously,  and  very  soon  their  slight 
formation  disappeared.  The  Indians  were  driven  back 
upon  the  Canadian  Infantry,  Proctor's  first  line,  who 
fought  at  river  Raisin.  At  sight  of  them  the  maddened 
Kentuckians  raised  the  cry  "  Frenchtown  !  "  "  French- 
town  ! "  Their  wild,  headlong  rush  was  too  much  for 
Reynolds'  men,  who  were  thrown  back  upon  the  two  thin, 
red  lines  of  the  regulars,  who  permitted  the  militia  to 
pass  through  their  ranks,  and  reform  in  their  rear,  while 
the  scattered  Indians  on  their  flanks  were  bloodily 
troublesome  to  the  broken  assailants.  The  moment  their 
front  was  clear  of  friends,  the  British  delivered  two  vol 
leys  with  not  the  fourth  of  a  minute  interval,  at  short 


190  The  Torys  Daughter. 

range,  into  the  on-rushing  multitude,  followed  by  a  charge 
of  bayonets.  As  the  red  coats  advanced,  the  war  cry  of 
Tecumseh  rang  in  the  rear  of  the  shattered  and  scatter 
ing  Kentuckians.  Every  warrior  heard  and  responded. 
Two  thirds  of  the  Americans  thus  surrounded,  surren 
dered  to  the  British ;  the  residue,  more  determined, 
rushed  back,  and  the  most  of  them  dashed  through 
Tecumseh's  warriors,  just  taking  form  under  the  skilled 
leader  in  person. 

The  Kentucky  colonel  had  early  paid  the  penalty  of 
his  incompetency,  and  has  ever  been  spared  the  criticism 
of  his  countrymen.  Brave  to  a  fault,  he  was  heavy  and 
incapable  of  continued  rapid  marching.  Wounded,  he 
died  sword  in  hand,  defending  himself  against  a  rush  of 
warriors  attracted  by  his  size,  sash  and  apparent  rank. 
He  too  was  a  Dudley. 

We  left  Harrison's  aid  in  a  canoe,  in  the  hands  of 
Carter.  He  lent  his  own  strength  to  drive  the  little  bub 
ble  to  the  other  side,  and  gained  the  site  of  the  battery, 
about  the  time  that  Tecumseh  made  his  presence  known, 
the  best  of  a  half  mile  or  more  below  that  point. 

Here  were  thirty  or  forty  soldiers,  well-armed,  who  had 
been  shaken  out  of  the  fight,  fortunately  for  themselves 
and  some  of  their  fellows.  There  was  no  officer  with 
them.  They  had  no  idea  of  retiring,  and  did  not  know 
what  to  do  when  Dudley  appeared.  He  announced  his 
name  and  rank  which  at  once  took  their  hearts.  He 
was  a  born  leader,  and  was  a  Dudley,  a  name  of  potency 
with  them.  There  was  yet  another  with  General  Clay. 

Cheerily  he  called  to  them,  and  as  if  by  magic,  they 
were  soon  in  line,  facing  the  now  lessening  roar  of  battle. 
They  could  never  tell  how,  but  they  found  themselves 
with  loaded  muskets,  rekindled  confidence,  following  this 


Day  of  Battles — The  Meeting.  191 

glowing-faced,  flashing-eyed,  laughing  young  man,  whose 
ringing  voice  went  through  them,  as  he  turned  back  to 
them,  or  ran  along  their  front  to  give  a  personal  direction, 
speak  a  word  for  care  and  coolness,  and  hold  them  in 
hand.  The  recovered  men  looked  at  their  young  leader 
with  admiring  wonder.  They  had  never  before  seen  any 
thing  like  him,  a  sort  of  superior  being,  armed,  dressed, 
and  gifted, — given  to  restore  order  and  confidence,  per 
haps  win  a  lost  battle. 

Then  came  the  fugitives.  At  first  singly,  then  in  twos 
and  threes,  in  groups  of  a  dozen,  then  a  cloud,  they 
rallied,  or  passed  his  line  and  rallied  in  his  rear.  Not 
panicy,  not  scared,  defeated  and  fleeing,  when  defence 
was  impossible.  Scarcely  were  they  in  effective  position 
when  on  came  the  pursuing  warriors,  a  hundred  or  more, 
an  irregular  line,  with  others  in  their  immediate  rear,  and 
were  upon  him,  when  Dudley  gave  the  word,  and  a  wide, 
close  volley  from  a  hundred  and  fifty  muskets — a  long 
line  in  open  order,  to  prevent  flanking — flashed  scorch- 
ingly  in  their  faces.  The  warriors  had  dropped  their 
guns,  and  with  brandished  knives  and  tomahawks,  had 
made  the  headlong  rush  for  the  bloody  finish. .  As  an 
American  fell  they  stopped  for  the  reeking  trophy,  and 
thus  disordered  they  reached  Dudley's  fence  of  steel. 
His  volley  was  fatal  to  many  ;  the  rest  recoiled  from  the 
line  of  levelled  bayonets,  turned,  sought  cover,  and  hur 
ried  back  to  their  abandoned  guns,  not  confident  and 
reckless  enough  to  impale  themselves  on  the  gleaming 
steel  for  the  chance  of  reaching  an  assailant  with  hatchet 
and  knife.  All  found  cover  save  the  intrepid  leader: 
wearing  the  uniform  coat  of  a  British  general,  scarlet 
cap  with  eagle  plume,  brandished  sword,  face  and  eyes 
aflame,  on  he  came,  as  if  followed  by  his  warriors. 


192  The  Torys  Daughter. 

Carter,  ever  near  Dudley,  confronted  him  with  levelled 
rifle,  which  gave  forth  its  contents  almost  in  the  face  of 
the  daring  chief,  only  distant  enough  to  leave  his  sword 
ineffective.  The  great  leader  would  never  have  seen 
the  Thames,  had  not  the  alert  Dudley  with  a  stroke  of 
his  sabre,  as  the  trigger  was  touched,  thrown  the  rifle  out 
of  fatal  range.  As  it  was,  a  slight  wound  of  the  sword 
arm  compelled  the  chief  to  lower  his  weapon.  For  an 
instant  Shawanoe  and  the  young  American  confronted 
each  other,  Dudley's  face  lighting  with  almost  a  laugh. 
The  frown  and  flash  of  battle  dissolved  in  the  regal  face 
of  the  chief,  and  softened  to  a  look  of  recognition,  almost 
a  smile.  Each  turned  to  his  duties  as  leader.  It  passed 
in  an  instant.  Carter  only  comprehended  it,  as  in  cover 
of  a  tree  he  grimly  reloaded  his  rifle,  as  did  the  Ken- 
tuckians. 

Tecumseh  turned  to  find  himself  alone,  and  glided 
from  tree  to  tree  until  he  could  rally  his  repulsed  fol 
lowers,  momentarily  increasing  in  number. 

The  distant  fire  in  Dudley's  front  had  ceased,  the 
battle  was  over.  He  had  received,  as  he  judged,  all  the 
surviving  fugitives.  He  had  recovered  two  subaltern 
officers,  of  the  grade  of  second  lieutenant,  whom  he 
placed  on  either  flank,  and  commenced  his  movement 
toward  the  boats,  his  men  making  the  march,  orderly, 
and  with  care,  in  two  ranks  or  lines.  He,  with  Carter, 
marched  in  the  rear.  Two  or  three  times  he  ordered  a 
halt  and  right-about-face,  and  was  charmed  with  the 
prompt  obedience  of  his  soldiers.  As  they  approached 
the  river,  the  Indians,  still  half-armed,  pursued  in  large 
numbers.  His  prompt  right-about  kept  them  at  a  pru 
dent  distance,  and  he  did  not  apprehend  an  attack  under 
Tecumseh.  He  held  a  third  of  his  force  on  the  upper 


Day  of  Battles — The  Meeting.  193 

bank,  while  his  officers  led  the  main  body  to  the  boats, 
and  saw  they  were  in  order.  When  this  was  accom 
plished,  he  marched  down,  observing  the  care  of  a  skilled 
officer  in  the  presence  of  a  superior  force — if  the  British 
were  taken  into  account.  He  was  permitted  to  embark, 
taking  all  the  boats  to  the  American  side. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

TECUMSEH    AVENGER   AND   RESCUER. 

AS  Tecumseh  turned  back,  gathering  up  his  bands, 
many  signs  of  the  method  of  dealing  with  the 
enemy  by  his  warriors  met  his  eye.  He  had  suggested  to 
Proctor  an  order  allowing  his  warriors  twice  as  much  for 
a  prisoner  as  the  usual  trophy  of  an  enemy  slain,  yet  on 
this  day  of  blood  they  took  no  prisoners.  On  landing 
he  had  despatched  a  youth  for  his  horse,  which  he  now 
found  under  the  bank,  awaiting  his  use.  He  had  a  clear 
idea  of  the  events  on  the  British  side  of  the  river.  The 
fighting  on  the  American  side  was  over,  apparently,  and 
he  took  his  way  to  the  old  fort.  Ere  he  passed  a  third  of 
the  distance,  ominous  sounds  reached  him  from  that 
direction.  He  increased  his  speed  and  finally  put  his 
mettled  charger  to  his  best,  yet  to  the  impatient  chief 
he  seemed  to  bear  him  tardily. 

The  American  prisoners  were  crowded  into  the  old 
fort,  and  Combs,  though  wounded,  and  his  riflemen,  Cap 
tain  Logan,  the  famous  half-blood  Shawanoe,  who  com 
manded  the  Indians,  were  compelled  to  run  the  gauntlet 
between  two  rows  of  grim  and  painted  warriors,  aflame 
from  the  battle.  Permitted  this  luxury,  they  were  not 
slow  to  engage  in  pleasures  more  exciting  and  exquisite. 
They  gathered  about  the  unarmed  Kentuckians,  and 
selecting  such  as  pleased  their  individual  fancy,  shot 
them  down  in  the  presence  of  Proctor  himself,  and  his 

194 


Tecumseh  Avenger  and  Rescuer.  195 

officers.  Combs  appealed  to  Proctor,  who  truculently 
refused  to  interfere.  Emboldened,  the  Indians  began  to 
select  victims,  and  drag  them  out  for  more  space  and 
freer  sport.  Thinking  they  were  to  have  their  way  with 
the  300  prisoners,  the  chiefs  hastily  assembled  to  decide 
their  fate,  when  a  voice  of  thunder  arrested  hands  and 
thought  of  British  soldier  and  Indian  warrior.  It  was 
Tecumseh,  calling  to  his  countrymen  in  their  own  tongue, 
commanding  them  to  stay  their  hands.  An  instant  later, 
and  he  sprang  from  his  horse,  in  their  startled  midst, 
scattering  them  like  frightened  sparrows.  He  alit  where 
a  powerful  American  was  struggling  in  the  hands  of  two 
or  three  warriors,  who  were  at  preliminary  torture.  One 
the  chief  struck  down,  another  he  grasped  and  hurled  to 
a  distance  from  his  victim,  the  third  escaped.* 

Disdaining  the  sword,  he  flourished  the  native  weap 
ons,  tomahawk  and  scalping  knife,  and  with  his  magnifi 
cent  form  at  its  greatest  height,  every  muscle  at  tension, 
quivering  with  energy  and  rage,  his  eyes  flashing,  he 
denounced  the  chiefs  as  dogs,  and  dared  a  man  of  them 
so  much  as  to  point  a  finger  at  a  prisoner.  For  a  half 
minute  he  towered — Tecumseh  the  avenger,  from  whose 
eye  they  shrank  coweringly  away. 

"  Where  is  Proctor  ?  "  he  now  demanded  in  a  thunder 
ous  voice.  His  glance  caught  the  pudgy  form  at  no 
great  distance.  He  strode  toward  him. 

"  How  is  this  ? "  he  haughtily  demanded  in  English. 

"  Sir,  your  Indians  cannot  be  commanded,"  the  general 
replied  sullenly. 

"  Begone !  "  thundered  Tecumseh  in  contemptuous  dis- 


*  Drake's  "  Tecumseh.' 


196  The  Torys  Daughter. 

dain.  "  You  are  unfit  to  command !  Go  put  on  your 
petticoats"  stabbing  his  finger  scornfully  at  his  face. 

He  turned  from  the  Englishman  to  his  cowed  warriors 
and  their  ghastly  victims,  when  the  horror  and  full  sig 
nificance  of  the  spectacle  smote  the  apprehension  of  the 
high-souled  chief. 

"  Oh,  my  poor  Indians  !  "  he  cried  in  anguish,  drop 
ping  his  weapons,  and  clasping  his  hands  above  his  up 
turned  face,  as  in  appeal  to  the  Great  Spirit.  "  My  poor 
Indians  !  what  will  become  of  them  !  " 

Colonel  Elliott  reached  the  ground  at  this  instant,  rode 
into  the  old  fort,  and  in  a  ringing  voice  bade  the  Indians 
withdraw,  which  they  instantly  did,  when  by  the  orders 
of  Tecumseh  they  departed  for  their  camps.* 

On  the  American  side  of  the  river,  we  left  Clay  pur 
suing  and  punishing  the  retiring  Indians,  with  a  message 
of  recall  from  General  Harrison  on  its  way  to  him,  a 
party  of  the  enemy  stealing  up  under  the  river  bank  to 
intercept  him  on  his  approach  to  the  fort.  Miller  was 
marching  out  to  assault  the  batteries  on  the  lower  bank 
of  the  ravine.  To  these  we  turn  attention  for  a  minute 
to  note  the  close  of  the  actions  of  the  day. 

Miller's  attention  was  called  to  the  advance  of  the 
mixed  party  of  British  and  Indians.  On  his  approach 
the  Indians  did  not  care  to  meet  him  in  the  open,  and 
the  regulars  alone  were  too  small  a  body,  and  withdrew, 
leaving  him  to  advance  against  the  batteries  whose  sup 
port  these  soldiers  were.  Crossing  the  stream  that 
formed  the  ravine  above,  Miller  took  the  batteries  in 
flank.  The  infantry  support  had  returned,  but  the  guns 
were  carried,  spiked  dismounted,  and  as  a  battery  the 

*  Drake's  "  Life  of  Tecumseh." 


TecumseJi  Avenger  and  Rescuer.  197 

slight  works  demolished.  Colonel  Miller's  return  to  the 
fort  was  simultaneous  with  the  landing  of  Dudley  with 
the  remnant  of  his  namesake's  command. 

The  persistent  Indians,  only  beaten  back  by  Clay,  who 
entered  the  fort,  had  returned  to  their  position,  and 
sharply  resisted  Dudley's  landing.  He  leaped  ashore, 
formed  his  now  fully  recovered  men,  who  had  exhausted 
their  ammunition,  yet  who  now  under  their  intrepid 
leader  dashed  forward  with  shouts  and  bayonets. 
Among  the  many  objects  of  interest  demanding  the 
attention  of  the  American  commander,  he  did  not  lose 
sight  of  his  aid.  He  heard  his  volley,  saw  him  emerge 
with  a  considerable  body  of  the  Kentuckians,  and  he  now 
hurried  the  returning  Miller  to  clear  his  way  into  camp. 
Their  bayonets,  with  Dudley's  own,  dispersed  the  stinging 
Indians,  and  very  soon  his  general  welcomed  and  con 
gratulated  him  on  his  success. 

Of  the  1200  men  under  Clay,  about  half  reached  Camp 
Meigs.  Of  the  residue,  a  third  had  fallen,  killed  and 
wounded  in  battle.  More  than  a  score  perished  at  the 
old  fort,  prisoners  of  the  British. 

As  stated,  Proctor  supposed  his  position  was  the  real 
object  of  attack.  He  nevej  gave  up  that  idea.  He 
claimed  to  have  destroyed,  killed  and  captured  a  force  of 
the  enemy,  superior  in  numbers  to  his  own.  For  this 
victory  he  demanded  credit,  as  for  the  defeat  of  Colonel 
Miller's  sortie.  Substantially  this  vaunted  victory  of 
Proctor's  ended  the  siege  of  Camp  Meigs,  though  his 
guns  again  feebly  opened. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE   BATTLE   AND   AFTER — AN    INDIAN  PRINCESS. 

IT  will  be  remembered  that  our  last  sight  of  Edith  was 
at  the  instant  of  the  entrance  of  Gordon  upon  her 
interview  with  Dudley,  from  whom  she  vanished. 

Anita  had  hovered  near  them,  so  near  as  to  hear  their 
words,  in  which  she  became  absorbed  and  forgot  her 
office  as  picket.  No  thought  of  military  interruption 
crossed  her  mind.  Her  first  notice  of  Gordon's  presence 
was  a  flash  of  him  through  the  parted  curtains  as  Edith 
rushed  to  their  common  room,  wildly  exclaiming  in  smoth 
ered  accents  to  herself, — 

"  Oh  !  Oh  !  Oh !  my  wicked,  cruel  pride  !  So  false 
to  myself — so — so  utterly  false  "  !  She  cast  herself  upon 
the  rugs  and  gave  way  in  anguish  to  self-reproaches, — con 
duct  so  strange  as  to  greatly  surprise  the  Indian  girl. 
Anita  knew  that  she  had  long  cherished  the  purpose,  if 
she  ever  again  met  Dudley,  to  at  once  make  known  to 
him  who  she  was,  and  her  share  in  the  Ohio  mission. 
That  ruling  intention  she  accomplished  under  the  influ 
ence  of  anger  and  shame,  at  the  implied  accusation  of 
his  unguarded  words,  so  misconstrued.  As  the  new 
and  strange  excess  of  emotion  subsided  under  the 
caresses  and  soothing  care  of  Anita,  came  the  convic 
tion  to  the  overcome  girl,  that  no  man's  love — one  of 
the  sensitive,  heroic  nature  of  Dudley,  could  survive  such 

198 


The  Battle  and  After — An  Indian  Princess.    199 

an  assault — a  fitting  but  awful  retribution  to  her.  Anita 
assured  her  that  the  dear  Saviour  would  forgive  her,  and 
could  but  see  that  her  sister  was  more  unhappy  over  the 
offence  given  her  earthly  lover. 

It  was  long  a  mystery  how  Dudley's  presence  was 
betrayed  to  his  enemies.  Anita  had  taken  no  account  of 
the  presence  of  Peters,  nor  could  she  have  known  that  so 
far  as  Dudley  was  concerned,  he  was  the  spy  of  Home. 
Many  things  were  to  happen  ere  she  came  to  know  of  his 
agency  in  the  transactions  of  that  night. 

Anita  had  certain  native-taught,  inherited  notions  of 
her  own  of  the  rights  of  lovers,  supreme  over  the  stupid 
laws  of  war.  To  her  the  fittest  thing  in  the  world  was 
for  a  young  chief  of  one  nation  to  fall  in  love  with  the 
daughter  of  the  chief  of  another,  with  which  his  tribe  was 
at  war.  This  furnished  conditions  more  romantic,  and  in 
a  certain  way  more  favorable  to  the  lovers  than  could 
otherwise  exist.  The  heroine  and  her  women  friends> 
would,  of  course,  conspire  to  advance  the  wishes  of  the 
lover.  Maiden  diffidence  and  reserve  were  to  throw  as 
few  obstacles  in  his  way  as  the  laws  of  war.  His  main 
advantage  was  the  divine  right  of  capture.  She  hated 
Home  ever  since  the  Huron  days,  and  was  certain  he 
there  set  on  foot  a  plot  against  the  life  of  the  young 
chief,  which  Edith  would  never  believe.  That  he  brought 
about  his  capture  now,  she  had  no  doubt.  She  fervently 
hoped  to  see  the  day  when  Dudley  should  take  full  ven 
geance  on  him,  though  it  involved  the  discomfiture  of 
Proctor.  All  the  day  following  the  eventful  night,  the 
Indian  girl  devoted  to  consoling  her  sister.  The  fault 
was  with  the  wholly  unwarrantable  intrusion  of  Lieutenant 
Gordon.  It  would  all  have  been  right  but  for  him. 
Edith  need  not  be  so  disturbed.  Her  chief  would  always 


2OO  The  Torys  Daughter. 

love  her.  It  was  the  right  of  a  chief's  daughter  to  be 
asked  many  times.  The  Indian  girl's  talk  was  not  with 
out  its  comfort,  though  Edith  was  shocked  by  her  aborig 
inal  notions,  and  was  at  pains  to  show  that  the  rules  of 
forest  courtship,  could  hardly  govern  in  cases  of  those 
reared  in  Anglo-American  ways.  That  the  daughters  of 
the  proud  Shawanoe,  had  privileges  and  advantages 
denied  to  maidens  of  the  pale  faces. 

On  the  day  of  the  battles,  the  girls  were  out  on  the 
wooded  plain.  They  were  accustomed  to  the  roar  of  the 
cannon  at  Detroit,  and  now  scarcely  minded  it.  The 
Indian  yell  raised  by  the  Kentuckians  startled  them. 
That  was  war,  battle,  an  attack  of  the  enemy.  They 
would  fight  after  all.  The  ears  of  their  own  warriors 
detected  it,  as  the  product  of  amateurs,  although  Logan, 
the  famous  half-blood,  and  his  Shawanoes,  soon  gave  voice 
with  their  allies.  This  was  war  brought  by  the  enemy, 
and  on  their  side  of  the  river.  The  girls  turned  back. 
The  drums  beat  to  arms ;  in  the  camp,  to  their  ears,  every 
thing  was  noise  and  confusion.  To  all,  that  wide  reach 
ing  yell  was  a  call  to  arms,  a  challenge,  a  defiance  to 
battle,  immediate.  The  voices  of  the  officers,  quick, 
sharp,  and  not  loud,  scarcely  articulate  sounds  to  un 
trained  ears,  sent  the  4ist's  men,  as  all  the  regulars, 
forth  in  rapidly  moving  red  files,  as  if  by>  magic.  Rey 
nolds'  men  made  a  little  more  noise.  Warburton  was  in 
the  saddle  as  were  Proctor,  Elliott,  Short,  Muir ;  and  the 
whole  force  soon  in  rapid  motion,  to  meet  the  enemy. 
Scouts  and  Indians  in  advance. 

Then  fell  the  ominous  silence  of  the  guns  of  the  heavy 
battery  on  their  side  of  the  river,  followed  by  the  cheers 
of  the  victorious  enemy,  and  the  answering  cheers  from 
Camp  Meigs.  Scarcely  had  these  ceased  when  nearer 


The  Battle  and  After — An  Indian  Princess.   201 

came  the  war  whoop  of  their  own  warriors,  who  engaged 
Combs  and  the  Kentuckians  generally.  The  sound 
swelled  in  volume,  grew  louder  and  seemingly  nearer  as 
the  first  tide  of  war  rolled  toward  the  camp.  Then  came 
the  sharp  roll  of  the  provincial  militia,  followed  by  the 
heavy  explosive  volleys  of  the  regulars,  and  the  British 
cheers  as  they  swept  forward  with  the  bayonet,  and  the 
enemy's  war  was  broken  and  beaten  back,  scattered. 

The  spirits  of  the  girls  arose  and  their  veins  quickened 
in  the  presence  of  the  battle.  Through  it  all  the  great 
guns  preserved  an  ominous  silence.  Nor  yet  when  the 
sounds  of  war  no  longer  beat  the  air,  did  they  begin 
again  on  the  west  side.  The  notes  of  Dudley's  defence, 
feebler  and  more  remote,  reached  them,  and  then  all  was 
still,  and  remained  so,  on  their  side,  and  they  knew  they 
were  the  victors.  Soon  was  this  confirmed  by  messengers, 
sent  with  the  tidings.  They  had  met  the  American  army, 
defeated  it,  and  nearly  all  unslain  were  captured.  For 
the  wounded  they  should  take  thought.  Rumor  was  that 
the  fort  had  surrendered  also,  though,  as  they  could  see, 
its  flag  still  waved,  and  would  until  formally  delivered. 
Then  came  the  rattling  fights  from  the  easterly  side. 

Ere  these  were  over  the  young  girls  had  returned  down 
the  glen,  Anita  showing  Edith  where  she  met  Dudley 
and  Carter.  Also  telling  her  how,  by  an  accident,  she 
met  her  uncle  on  his  way  to  the  youth's  rescue,  as  she 
was  on  her  way  to  notify  the  chief  of  his  capture.  Some 
of  the  soldiers  had  now  already  returned,  and  the  girls 
approached  to  inquire  of  the  battle.  Edith  knew  a  grim 
old  sergeant,  who  gave  her  some  of  the  details.  A 
soldier  seldom  knows  more  than  he  sees  of  a  battle,  which 
is  little,  and  may  fight  and  retire,  not  clear  as  to  the  gen 
eral  result. 


2O2  The  Torys  Daughter. 

Just  then  the  batteries  on  the  easterly  side  ceased  also 
and  the  soldier  was  sure  the  fort  had  surrendered.  The 
girls  Burned  away,  Anita  deploring  the  fortune  of  Dudley 
in  being  again  captured.  The  soldier  caught  the  name 
"  Dudley  "  on  her  lips  and  said : — "  Dudley  was  killed — as 
them  said  as  knows  it." 

"  Major  Dudley !  "  cried  Edith,  with  pale  face,  and 
almost  rigid  form. 

"  Some  calls  'im  major  an'  some  colonel,"  replied  the 
sergeant,,  carelessly. — "  Enny  ways  'e's  killed— airly  this 
mornin'." 

Edith  was  not  one  to  lose  self-control,  faint,  or  cry  out 
at  anything.  A  rigor  made  her  shiver  for  an  instant. 
They  knew  of  but  one  Dudley.  This  must  be  him.  For 
her  the  world  had  a  changed  aspect.  Slain  up  there  in 
the  woods,  where  she  heard  the  yells  of  warriors,  the 
volleys  and  shouts  of  the  soldiers.  She  was  back  in  her 
own  tent  ere  quite  herself.  She  knew  Anita  had  mur 
mured  words  in  her  ears,  and  had  an  arm  about  her  waist. 
What  she  said  she  did  not  comprehend,  nor  did  she  make 
reply  or  ask  a  question. 

In  the  tent  she  met  her  father,  just  returned  after 
meeting  some  of  the  officers.  His  face  confirmed  what 
she  was  told  by  the  old  soldier.  He  saw  she  was  in  pos 
session  of  what  he  was  spared  the  pain  of  telling  her. 

"  Two  Dudleys,"  suggested  Anita.  "  Cliffton  Dudley 
cannot  be  killed." 

"There  may  be,"  said  Grayson,  brightening;  "Philip 
had  a  cousin  in  Virginia." 

"  Make  sure.  If — if — well,"  said  Edith,  pathetically, 
yet  relieved  by  the  suggestions  of  both,  so  that  now  tears 
came  to  comfort  her.  She  could  not  finish  the  sentence, 
even  mentally,  but  she  could  weep. 


The  Battle  and  After — An  Indian  Princess.    203 

The  smoke  of  the  battle  rolled  away  and  dissipated. 
The  waters  swept  on,  still  touched  by  the  sun,  whose  early 
May  rays  filled  the  now  serene  and  lovely  valley.  A 
bluebird  flew  up  from  below,  dropping  little  trills  of  joy, 
and  such  joy !  A  robin  recovered  his  voice  in  the  un 
wonted  stillness  and  sent  his  tide  of  song  down  from 
his  perch  on  an  old  maple  by  the  river's  margin.  They 
fell  on  Edith's  ears  unheeded,  save  as  discordant  sounds, 
as  she  went  forth  again,  unable  to  remain  inside. 

Oh,  what  was  the  victory  worth  at  such  purchase ! 
Why  was  war  ?  He  may  have  been  met  by  their  allies. 
What  a  horror  was  that  thought !  She  would  not  think, 
she  could  not,  nor  yet  avoid  the  distraction  which  came 
as  the  conclusion  of  thought.  Mingled  thought  and 
feeling,  the  exquisite  of  anguish. 

"  Oh — Oh  !  When  he  knelt  in  his  loveliness,  his  beauti 
ful  manliness,  with  his  love  lighting  his  eyes,  his  face, 
why  did  I  not  kneel  by  him  in  God's  presence,  place  my 
lips  to  his,  so  our  souls  should  have  been  wedded  !"  Her 
mother's  spirit,  his  father's,  would  have  hovered  near  and 
blessed  them.  God  would  have  blessed  the  dedication, 
the  union. 

An  hour  elapsed  and  she  knew  how  much  anguish 
sixty  minutes  could  contain.  Then  came  this  note  from 
her  father. 

"  My  dearest  child: 

"Praise  and  thank  God!  Cliffton  Dudley  is 
unharmed.  ('  O,  praise  and  thank  God  ! '  clasping  her 
hands  with  fervor.  Reads.)  Anita  was  right.  The  slain 
Dudley  was  Colonel  William  Dudley,  of  Kentucky.  I 
have  seen  Captain  Combs,  who  commanded  their  spies  ; 
he  says  Colonel  Dudley  was  killed. 

"  Major  Dudley  was  on  this  side ;    came  over   alone 


2O4  The   Tory's  Daughter. 

and  rallied  the  fugitives,  two  or  three  hundred,  and  made 
a  very  determined  stand.  Tecumseh  also  came  over  with 
a  few  warriors,  and  they  met  in  battle,  face  to  face,  hand  to 
hand.-  ('  O,  he  met  Tecumseh  !  I  never  thought  of  that ;  ' 
looking  away,  the  color  leaving  her  face,  crushing  the 
paper  unconsciously  in  her  hands.  Her  eyes  returned  to 
it,  she  smoothed  it.  Reads.)  Tecumseh's  warriors  were 
beaten  back  !  and  he  was  compelled  to  retire.  ('  Tecum 
seh  beaten  back.'  Reads.)  He  was  slightly  wounded. 
('  Merciful  Father  !  Tecumseh  wounded  ! '  Reads.)  He 
says  Dudley  saved  his  life.  ('  O,  joy,  joy  !  Dudley  saved 
Tecumseh's  life  !  Of  course  he  would  !  How  these  noble 
men  help  each  other.  Glorious  Dudley  ! '  Reads.)  His 
force  was  too  small  to  do  more  than  retire,  which  he  did 
without  loss  in  the  face  of  the  chief  and  his  warriors. 
('  Good,  good  !  I  am  glad  of  it.'  Reads).  He  crossed 
the  river,  and  is  supposed  to  have  reached  the  American 
camp  in  safety.  (Here  she  expressed  fervid  thanks, 
kissing  the  paper,  which  she  resumed.)  The  chief  is 
greatly  distressed  at  occurrences  after  the  battle  at  the 
old  fort,  on  the  arrival  there  of  the  prisoners.  Proctor 
was  there  ;  Tecumseh  came.  It  would  have  been  better 
had  he  reached  the  fort  sooner.  Of  course  he  put  an 
end  to  it.  It  was  bad.  You  would  hear  of  it.  Let  us 
not  think  of  it." 

"  The  enemy's  dead  will  be  honorably  interred,  espe 
cially  Colonel  Dudley. 

"  His  wounded  will  be  cared  for. 

"  Be  with  you  in  an  hour. 

"  Your  father, 

"  E.  G." 


Edith  had  to  go  again  into  the  outer  day  with  this 
almost  celestial  missive.  What  a  divine  radiance  was 
shed  abroad  by  the  dying  light  upon  the  now  laughing, 
lovely  earth — battle  strewn  though  it  was.  She  was  even 
glad  that  the  flag  of  the  enemy  still  floated  over  the  head 
of  the  young  hero.  Then  she  thought  of  his  wounded 


The  Battle  and  After — An  Indian  Princess.    205 

countrymen,  passed  by  for  the  wounded  British  soldiers, 
and  left  to  the  hands  of  those  who  had  failed  to  destroy 
their  lives  on  the  field.  She  went  away  to  enquire  into 
their  condition,  which  she  found  sad  enough.  They  with 
the  English,  less  in  number,  would  be  sent  to  Maiden  the 
next  morning,  with  the  whole  body  of  the  American  pris 
oners.  She  did  what  she  could,  and  promised  herself  to 
see  them  when  they  embarked.  She  resolutely  put  from 
her  all  thought  of  the  possible  occurrence  at  the  old  fort, 
yet  its  shadow  was  on  her. 

In  the  roseate  twilight,  Anita  launched  her  bark  shell, 
of  which  she  was  mistress,  and  sent  it  across  the  river  to 
the  landing  near  the  Indian  camp.  A  group  of  young 
natives,  youths  and  maidens,  gathered  there  as  she  ap 
proached. 

Two  boys  ran  forward  to  hold  it  for  her  to  land  from, 
took  the  light  shell  from  the  water  as  she  stepped  from  it, 
and  remained  near  to  guard  it,  proud  to  render  the  ser 
vice  for  one  whom  they  remembered  as  the  daughter  of 
lost  Cheeseekau,  the  niece  of  Tecumseh  and  Tecuma- 
pease,  and  worshipped  as  the  Indian  youth's  ideal  of  a 
born  princess.  As  she  moved  lightly  through  the  group, 
speaking  laughingly  to  those  she  knew,  they  formed  an 
irregular  procession,  and  followed  as  she  passed  along 
the  way  winding  up  the  bank.  There  she  found  many 
women  who  came  to  look  at  and  catch  a  word  from  her. 
The  young  warriors  drew  near  with  respectful  admira 
tion,  as  did  many  a  grim  participant  in  the  battle.  In 
some  lodges  was  darkness  and  weeping ;  in  more  were 
heard  notes  of  triumph.  Note  of  her  presence  ran 
through  the  camp.  The  young  chiefs,  Jim  Blue-Jacket, 
young  Little-Turtle,  Anita's  cousin,  young  Tecumseh,  met 
her ;  and  the  last  named  attended  her  to  %his  father's 


206  The  Torys  Daughter. 

quarters,  a  little  apart  from  the  irregular  village  of  wig 
wams,  huts  and  lodges,  forming  the  temporary  camp. 

On  the  other  side  Anita  was  the  gay,  light-hearted, 
laughing,  pliant  shadow,  or  sheaf  of  sun-rays,  playing 
about  Edith  whom  she  worshipped,  whose  ways  she 
studied  and  made  their  spirit  hers.  Here  she  was  the 
Indian  princess ;  wild,  arch,  sparkling,  but  never  less 
than  princess,  taking  the  love  of  children,  the  love  of 
women,  the  worship  of  the  young  warriors,  and  the  admi 
ration  of  the  older  braves  and  chiefs  as  things  of  course, 
to  be  glad  for,  to  be  proud  of,  yet  to  seem  unconscious 
of.  It  was  much  to  be  the  daughter  of  the  great  Indian 
house ;  it  was  more  to  be  the  lovely,  winsome  Indian 
maiden,  and  receive  the  admiration  which  was  to  her  the 
atmosphere  surrounding  her. 

The  leaders  of  untaught  races  are  necessarily  austere 
of  manner :  much  unbending  would  be  loss  of  power. 
Tecumseh  was  alone,  brooding  over  the  events  of  the  day, 
moody,  and  aware  of  the  hurt  to  his  arm.  He  submitted 
it  to  Proctor's  surgeon.  Had  himself  applied  a  native 
salve,  but  it  was  sore,  becoming  stiff  from  the  hurt  to  an 
important  muscle. 

Anita  entered  his  presence  silently,  and  stood  in  the 
bending  attitude  of  the  Indian  woman  in  the  presence  of 
her  lord.  He  was  soon  aware  of  her  presence,  and  his 
face  relaxed  and  lit  up  with  a  tender  smile.  He  extended 
his  hand  to  her  and  she  moved  to  his  side  placing  her 
hand  in  it,  murmuring  words  of  affection,  and  was  re 
warded  with  an  unwonted  caress. 

Her  visit  was  wholly  on  Edith's  account. 

"My  sister,"  she  said,  "they  told  her  the  young 
American  chief  was  slain  in  the  battle.  Has  my  uncle 
seen  him  ?  Does  he  know  ?  " 


The  Battle  and  After — An  Indian  Princess.  207 

He  turned  his  eyes,  no  longer  cold  or  austere,  upon 
her. 

"  Why  does  my  English  sister  hide  her  heart  when  the 
young  chief  seeks  her  in  his  enemy's  camp  ?  Should  a 
Choctaw  seek  my  little  sister  thus,  she  would  at  least 
hear  his  words  !  " 

"  The  high-born  English  maiden  must  be  asked  many 
times.  She  is  not  bought  with  horses.  The  young  chief 
must  prove  himself,"  she  answered  naively. 

"  Tecumseh  has  proved  him  in  battle  this  day.  He 
leads  his  braves  to  war  laughing,  like  a  young  chief  when 
the  girls  see  him  in  the  dance,  at  the  feast  of  succotash" 
he  said. 

"  We  were  in  swift  pursuit  of  running  deer.  My  war 
riors  dropped  their  guns.  There  came  a  flash  of  fire  in 
their  faces,  and  then  a  gleam  of  the  stabbing  knives  on 
the  muzzles  of  their  guns.  My  warriors  turned  back. 
Tecumseh  was  alone.  The  scout  of  the  Huron  aimed 
his  rifle  at  his  breast.  I  looked  in  at  its  muzzle.  Te 
cumseh  could  not  fly.  The  young  chief,  laughing,  struck 
the  gun  aside.  Tecumseh  lived  with  but  this,"  touching 
the  wound.  "The  young  chief  and  Tecumseh  looked 
into  each  other's  eyes  and  smiled.  Tell  my  young  sister 
in  her  own  tongue,  till  she  sees  and  knows.  A  leader  of 
warriors  knows  when  to  retire.  My  warriors  were  gather 
ing  up  their  guns.  Warburton  and  Short  with  the  sol 
diers  were  near.  The  running  deer,  when  he  called  them 
turned  to  fierce  wolves,  and  slowly  they  backed  through 
the  trees,  their  teeth  to  us,  the  young  chief  between  them 
and  us,  calling  to  them  in  laughing  words.  I  followed 
him,  but  forbade  my  warriors  the  use  of  their  guns.  Tell 
this  to  my  English  sister.  The  young  chief  is  safe  in  his 
camp." 


208  The  Tory 's  Daughter. 

Much  more  was  said,  and  finally,  with  a  kiss  upon  her 
uncle's  hand,  Anita  turned  to  go,  the  blaze  of  the  fire 
showing  her  form  and  face  half  in  shadow,  to  the  best 
advantage.  Tecumseh  for  the  first  time  seemed  aware  of 
the  excellence,  the  almost  perfection,  of  her  person. 

"  My  daughter  is  a  woman  ;  more  comely  than  her 
mother  or  Tecumapease,  when  a  girl.  She  will  have  to 
consider  what  answer  we  shall  make  to  the  young  chiefs," 
he  said,  a  smile  now  lighting  his  handsome  face. 

The  pleased  child  dropped  her  head,  her  eyes  flashing 
from  their  sides,  while  her  hand  toyed  with  the  hilt  of 
her  dagger,  her  parted  lips  showing  the  gleam  of  her 
teeth. 

"  Came  you  alone  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Many  came  from  the  river  with  me,"  evasively. 

"  Call  my  son  !  " 

The  young  man  was  at  the  opening,  heard  the  order 
and  stepped  in. 

"  Look  on  your  cousin,"  said  the  chief,  which  the 
youth,  her  junior  by  a  year,  was  very  willing  to  do,— had 
already  done  much  looking  on  her.  She  certainly  was 
never  so  lovely  as  now,  as  she  stood,  one  hand  still  on 
her  dagger,  her  face  warm  with  her  uncle's  praise. 

"  See,  it  is  not  mete  that  she  go  about  unattended,  like 
the  child  of  a  hunter  of  rabbits.  Call  your  cousin,  Jim 
Blue-Jacket,  Young  Little-Turtle,  and  see  her  returned 
in  honor." 

Anita  was  in  no  way  displeased  at  this  mark  of  consid 
eration.  Her  presence  had  drawn  the  young  men,  the 
two  chiefs  by  inheritance,  and  others,  near  their  general's 
quarters.  Upon  the  appearance  of  Anita  and  her  cousin, 
they  were  joined  by  the  son  of  Tecumapease  who  like 
his  cousin  had  not  yet  gained  a  name  of  his  own.  The 


The  Battle  and  After — An  Indian  Princess.  209 

two  by  right  of  blood  walked  on  each  side  of  the  maiden, 
while  the  others,  walking  behind,  attended  her  to  the 
river. 

Her  boat  was  launched,  and  young  Tecumseh  paddled 
it  across,  attended  by  the  others  named,  in  canoes.  So 
she  had  a  guard  of  honor  back  to  her  residence  for  the 
time,  where  she  dismissed  her  escort  with  thanks,  her 
manner  dignified  but  very  gracious. 

It  took  her  till  a  late  hour  in  her  very  pretty,  yet  still 
imperfect  English,  to  render  the  chief's  account  of  his 
meeting  with  Dudley,  which  she  did  in  a  picturesque 
way,  dwelling  much  on  Tecumseh's  chiding.  It  must  be 
said,  that  Edith  listened  with  exemplary  patience  to  her 
extended  version,  in  fact  showing  many  signs  of  interest 
in  it. 

It  was  late  when  the  girls  retired.  Anita,  with  no  trou 
bles  but  those  of  her  sister  on  her  heart,  bore  them 
lightly  to  the  land  of  dreams,  as  doth  the  young  maiden 
still  "  fancy  free." 

The  next  morning  was  chill  and  raw.  When  the 
wretched  prisoners  embarked,  they  became  aware  that  a 
gentle  influence  had  mollified  the  rigor  of  their  position, 
alway,  in  all  war,  the  extreme  of  human  ill.  Something 
had  been  done  for  the  wounded,  a  slight  atonement, 
thought  the  American,  for  the  atrocities  of  yesterday. 
They  had  been  taught  to  expect  treatment  little  short  of 
death  when  they  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  British  and 
their  red  allies.  We  judge  enemies  by  their  failures, 
ignoring  the  good  they  do. 

At  the  place  of  embarkation,  each  wounded  man  re 
ceived  a  cup  of  hot  tea,  broth,  and  refreshment  suited  to 
him,  and  was  gladdened  with  the  face  and  form  of  a 
lovely  girl,  attended  by  a  lithe,  winsome  Indian  maiden, 


2IO  The   Torys  Daughter. 

who  glided  among  them  tenderly,  and  smiling,  though 
tears  were  in  their  eyes,  ministering  to  them.  To  them 
these  were  as  if  from  heaven  direct.  A  few  words  the 
English  girl  spoke  to  each.  They  should  soon  see  her 
again.  So  she  won  their  blessings.  More  amazed  were 
they  when  she  told  them  that  her  sister  was  a  niece  of 
the  dreaded  Tecumseh.  She  thought  they  should  know 
that. 

It  was  unavoidable  that  the  English  attendants  should 
first  think  of  their  own  wounded.  Edith  showed  an 
equal,  and  in  her  anxiety,  more  care  for  her  conventional 
enemies. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

SHAWANOE   IN   COUNCIL. 

BY  the  utmost  exertion  the  artillerists  got  many  of 
their  guns  into  position  during  the  night  of  the 
fifth,  and  there  was  a  great  bellowing  up  in  the  woods  on 
both  sides  of  the  Maumee  that  morning.  After  an  hour 
or  two  of  idle  practice,  Colonel  Short  was  sent  to  repeat 
the  summons  of  two  days  before.  The  American  could 
hardly  conceal  his  astonishment  at  this  demand.  He 
told  the  Briton  to  look  through  his  camp  if  he  wished, 
make  sure  of  the  effect  of  his  bombardment,  ascertain  the 
number  and  condition  of  the  defenders,  and  report  to  his 
chief,  who  he  trusted  would  make  no  more  requisitions  of 
this  sort. 

This  was  doubtless  to  test  the  temper  and  position  of 
his  enemy.  Proctor  knew  the  American  was  now  too 
strong  to  assault,  and  a  further  pounding  of  his  oaken 
and  hickory  palisades  was  a  stupid  waste  of  means.  He 
resolved  in  his  own  time  and  way  to  retire  to  Maiden. 

General  Harrison  supposed,  as  have  the  American  his 
torians,  that  Proctor's  abandonment  of  the  siege  was  com 
pelled  by  the  -withdrawal  of  his  allies  and  the  inefficiency 
of  the  Canadian  militia.  To  them  it  always  seemed  that 
no  other  causes  could  be  of  sufficient  gravity — ^a  military 
necessity  in  fact.  In  this  they  under-estimated  the  effect 
of  their  own  war  upon  him  personally. 

So  it  was  supposed,  later,  that  Tecumseh  more  than 
211 


212  The   Tory's  Daughter. 

once  was  on  the  point  of  abandoning  his  ally  and  that 
nothing  but  his  pay  as  a  British  general  retained  him. 
These  suppositions  are  an  entire  mistake  of  the  facts  and 
the  character  of  the  chief. 

The  Indian  warriors  served  without  pay.  They  had  a 
share  in  the  plunder — loot.  In  addition  they  received  a 
premium  for  each  enemy  slain  in  battle,  or  taken  prisoner, 
with  a  difference  in  favor  of  the  live  soldier.  The  main 
inducement,  was  the  subsistence  of  the  warriors,  and  the 
maintenance  of  their  families.  Like  all  barbarians,  the 
Indians  went  to  war,  taking  their  women,  children,  old 
men,  and  dependents.  To  secure  the  warriors  of  a  tribe 
for  war,  was  for  the  time  to  sustain  the  nation,  a  thing 
the  Americans  never  allowed  for  in  estimating  the 
resources  of  the  English  in  this  war.  The  Indian  camp 
was  a  group  of  Indian  villages. 

There  was  not  the  least  warrant  for  the  generally 
believed  compact,  charged  to  Proctor  and  Tecumseh,  that 
upon  the  fall  of  Camp  Meigs  Harrison  was  to  be 
delivered  to  the  Indians  and  burnt. 

The  result  of  the  fifth  day's  battle,  and  accessions  to 
the  Americans,  disheartened  Proctor  and  his  inner  circle 
of  officers,  notwithstanding  the  heavy  punishment  of  their 
enemy.  He  must  retire  or  hazard  an  assault.  Tecum 
seh  discovered  at  the  close  of  this  sixth  day  that  the 
heavy  guns  had  been  dismounted,  and  slid  on  skids  down 
to  the  river  margin.  He  demanded  a  council  of  war. 
Its  session  was  stormy  and  all  the  officers  of  note  made 
speeches.  Proctor  admitted  his  purpose  of  returning 
immediately  to  Maiden. 

Tecumseh  spoke  at  length,  in  his  own  tongue,  as  usual. 
Elliott  translated  him  into  English.  Bold  and  impres 
sive  as  alway,  among  other  things  he  said, — "  Our  father 


Shawanoe  in  Council.  213 

brought  us  here  to  take  the  fort ;  then  why  don't  we  take 
it  ?  If  his  children  can't  do  it,  give  us  spades,  we  will 
dig  into  it — eat  a  way  into  it  for  him."  Harsher  words 
followed.  When  he  finished,  he  rilled  the  bowl  in  the 
head  of  his  inlaid  tomahawk  with  tobacco,  reclined  on  the 
earth  and  began  to  smoke.  When  Elliott  came  to  these 
bitter  words,  Proctor  fancied  he  was  taking  liberties  with 
the  orator's  text.  At  one  sentence  he  turned  angrily  to 
Elliott  and  exclaimed  : — 

"  Sir,  you  are  a  traitor  !  " 

"Sir, you  lie!"  was  Elliott's  fierce  retort,  drawing  his 
sword. 

"  What  does  he  say  ? "  demanded  Tecumseh  of  Elliott, 
springing  to  his  feet,  and  brandishing  his  tomahawk. 

The  officers  intervened,  and  for  the  time  the  tempest 
subsided  to  break  out  in  a  challenge  at  Maiden.* 

When  news  of  the  incident  of  the  guns  reached  them, 
the  militia  respectfully  asked  to  be  permitted  to  return  to 
their  farms  and  plant  their  summer  crops.  The  general 
thereupon  denounced  them,  and  on  their  return  to  Mai 
den  he  contemptuously  disarmed  them,  and  for  the  time 
dismissed  them  in  dishonor. 

Proctor  retired  to  Maiden,  leaving  Tecumseh  with 
bands  of  his  chosen  warriors  in  the  woods,  to  observe 
the  American  and  annoy  him  if  opportunity  presented. 

Secretary  Armstrong  determined  to  no  longer  depend 
upon  militia.  He  had  authority  to  raise  a  large  number 
of  new  regiments  of  regulars.  The  Ohioans  and  Ken- 
tuckians  to  a  man,  would  follow  Harrison  ;  scarce  a  man 
enlisted  in  the  new  regiments.  The  entire  force  of  the 
New  England  colony  of  North-eastern  Ohio  were  now 

*  "Chronicles  of  Canada." 


214  The  Torys  Daughter. 

on  the  way  to  raise  the  siege  of  Fort  Meigs,  as  also 
volunteers  from  the  southern  part  of  the  state.  Their 
purpose  was  to  push  Proctor  back,  capture  Detroit  and 
Maiden,  and  secure  peace  for  themselves.  With  the  aid 
of  Kentucky,  Harrison  felt  confident  of  doing  that  ere 
midsummer.  He  was  not  permitted  to  attempt  it.  He 
met  and  thanked  the  Ohio  men,  and  returned  them  for 
the  time  to  their  homes. 

With  the  opening  season  the  Americans  were  pushing 
with  vigor  the  building  of  a  fleet  at  Erie,  to  secure  the 
dominion  of  the  lake.  The  deep  and  safe  harbor  of 
Presque  Isle  Bay  gave  shelter  for  this  enterprise.  Here 
Perry,  worn  and  chafed  by  delay  and  lack  of  men,  mate 
rial  and  armament,  was  exerting  himself  to  the  utmost. 
The  department  had  promised  he  should  be  able  to  sail 
forth  by  the  loth  of  July. 

Meantime,  fully  advised  of  the  intended  weight  and 
strength  of  the  embryo  fleet  the  veteran  Barclay,  in  the 
sheltered  water  behind  Bois  Blanc  Island,  was  pushing  the 
new  ship  "  Detroit  "  to  completion,  and  fitting  his  squad 
ron  for  the  decisive  contest.  With  his  new,  heavy  flag 
ship,  he  was  confident. 

Harrison  would  invade,  capture  Maiden,  seize 
the  navy  yard,  and  make  prize  of  this  dangerous 
naval  creation.  Restrained  from  Washington  he  forti 
fied  a  camp  on  the  Sandusky  River  at  the  Indian  Seneca 
town,  nine  miles  above  Fort  Stephenson,  at  the  present 
town  of  Fremont.  This  was  his  headquarters.  His  left 
extended  to  Camp  Meigs,  with  the  intervening  Black 
Swamp  ;  his  right  to  Cleveland ;  with  this  two  hundred 
miles  of  lake  frontier  accessible  to  Proctor,  with  his  trans 
ports  and  armed  ships,  who  might  any  day  or  night  land 
at  any  of  the  exposed  points,  he  was  compelled  to  wait. 


Shawanoe  in  Council.  215 

Stephenson  was  now  a  well-built  stockade,  under  the 
command  of  Major  Croghan,  with  160  regulars,  having 
one  gun,  a  six-pounder,  and  was  the  most  exposed  point 
accessible  from  Sandusky  Bay,  and  in  Harrison's  judg 
ment  indefensible  against  heavy  ordnance.  Thus  sta 
tioned,  building,  arming,  training,  waiting,  watching,  to 
the  American  passed  the  early  summer  months  of  1813. 

Proctor  expected  to  be  attacked.  He  could  expect  no 
aid  from  Prevost.  His  resource  for  soldiers  were  the 
wilder  and  more  remote  tribes  beyond  Lake  Michigan, 
the  Sacs,  Foxes,  Chippewas  and  still  more  remote  Sioux. 

Dickson  had  visited  them  all,  Tecumseh  met  and 
secured  their  chiefs.  They  came  on  with  their  warriors 
in  early  June,  and  Tecumseh  was  at  the  head  of  the 
largest  body  of  native  warriors  known  to  our  history. 
Of  course  they  brought  their  women  and  children.  The 
warriors  were  to  be  armed  with  muskets,  and  all  to  be 
quartered  on  the  British  commissariat. 

Many  famous  chiefs  came,  as  their  immediate  leaders  : 
Osh-aw-ah-nah,  head  of  the  Chippewas,  and  Black-Hawk, 
then  about  the  age  of  Tecumseh,  of  the  Sacs,  and  their 
kindred  the  Foxes,  accompanied  by  his  gallant  nephew 
Red-Wing,  the  son  of  a  sister,  wife  of  a  Sioux  chief. 

In  the  rivalry  of  ship  building,  while  Perry  was  nearer 
his  supplies,  Barclay,  with  his  command  of  the  lake,  had 
constant  access  to  the  British  depot  at  Long  Point,  and 
was  confident  of  having  the  Detroit  in  readiness  ere 
Perry  could  gain  the  open  lake.  In  the  face  of  Barclay's 
ships  this  would  be  a  very  hazardous  thing  in  itself  to 
accomplish. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

RETURN    OF    THE     EXILES. 

EDITH  was  conscious  of  a  reluctance  to  leave  the 
valley  of  the  Maumee,  place  of  battle,  blood,  and 
murder  though  it  was,  and  she  was  well  aware  of  its 
cause.  She  steeled  her  heart,  closed  her  eyes,  and  turned 
bravely  from  the  chance  of  accident,  by  which  she  might 
possibly  feel  the  presence  of  one  whose  image  would 
be  her  mental  companion.  She  intended  to  follow  the 
vessels  that  bore  the  wounded,  the  same  day.  She  was 
detained  till  the  next  morning. 

Anita  felt  no  wish  to  hurry  away.  She  would  not  by 
a  minute  cut  short  the  chance  for  something  to  happen. 
On  the  deck  of  the  "  Edith,"  both  turned  a  little  wistfully 
for  a  glance  at  the  empty  place  under  the  distant  trees, 
where  their  tents  so  lately  stood,  thence  to  the  British 
camp,  from  that  up  to  the  American  side,  where  floated 
the 'hostile  banner  over  the  palisaded  hold,  seeming  to 
flaunt  them  in  the  face. 

"  Dudley  on  bank  below,  with  big  guns,"  said  Anita, 
her  eyes  and  teeth  gleaming  with  mischief.  "  He  take 
our  ship,  and  carry  sister  and  Anita  to  his  camp,"  laugh 
ing  at  her  conceit. 

"  They  never  make  captives  of  women,"  replied  Edith. 

"  Anita  tell  him,  then  he  come  carry  her  off.  Two  or 
three  days  he  come,  find  us  in  the  woods,  my  cousin 
with  us,  then  he  take  us  all,"  laughing. 

216 


Return  of  the  Exiles.  217 

"  You  bad  girl,  I  do  believe  you  would  try  it,"  said 
her  sister,  laughing. 

"  Certain.     Tecumapease,  young  warrior,  help  me." 

The  conception  of  this  coup,  possible  only  to  an  Indian 
girl,  was  very  attractive  to  her,  and  she  went  on  recount 
ing  the  details,  in  which  occurred  the  names  of  Jim  Blue- 
Jacket,  and  young  Little-Turtle,  when  Edith  playfully 
accused  her  of  a  secret  personal  interest  in  the  adventure, 
at  which  she  laughed  a  good  deal,  neither  admitting  or 
denying  the  impeachment  4  but  her  account  of  it  was 
arrested  and  never  resumed. 

It  was  a  crisp  May  forenoon,  of  that  voyage  down  the 
Maumee.  The  girls  were  quick  to  note  the  advance  of 
spring  in  the  ten  or  twelve  days  of  their  sylvan  sojourn. 
Along  the  banks  were  many  signs  of  kindling  warmth  and 
color.  Not  with  a  gush  does  spring  come  upon  that 
clime  of  snow  and  late  sharp  air,  though  near  the  lake 
and  protected  by  the  dense  forest,  as  it  then  was.  There 
were  under  the  river's  banks,  in  many  deep  thickets, 
favored  nooks,  dells,  and  parterres,  fastnesses  of  fatty 
swamps,  where  life  throbbed  the  long  winter  through  ;  but 
these  were  the  favored  haunts  of  nature ;  even  there  the 
pulse  was  faint  and  the  breath  often  congealed  to  frost, 
and  everything  but  the  bubbling  streams  wore  the  rime 
of  winter.  To  eyes  less  observant,  the  forest  appeared 
naked  and  empty,  a  region  of  merely  suspended  winter. 
To  theirs  it  was  full  of  life  and  signs  of  waking. 

Edith  found  the  wounded  doing  very  well,  and  learnt 
that  the  slightly  injured,  with  the  rest  of  the  prisoners, 
would  soon  be  sent  below. 

Her  Frenchtown  exiles  in  the  lovely  May,  were  pining 
for  their  homes  on  the  lonely  river  Raisin.  The  thought 
of  returning  them  under  the  protection  of  Tecumseh, 


21 8  The  Torys  Daughter. 

"  King  of  the  Woods,"  the  one  apt  thing  said  by  Proctor, 
came  to  her.  She  proposed  it  to  them  ;  they  were  eager 
to  accept  it.  The  chief  returned  about  that  time,  and 
gladly  undertook  at  Edith's  request  to  guarantee  them 
from  molestation  by  the  natives.  At  her  father's  request, 
Proctor  made  a  formal  order  for  their  return,  requiring  a 
pledge  of  neutrality  from  the  males  and  matrons. 

Tecumseh  was  a  born  ruler.  He  went  on  the  late  ex 
pedition  with  a  certainty  of  success.  He  returned  with 
a  chagrin  little  short  of  mortification  veiled  under  an  im- 

o 

penetrable  austerity  of  manner.  He  was  realizing  the 
futility  of  his  first  hopes  of  reclaiming  the  lost  lands. 
Tecumapease  went  with  Edith  to  him,  on  behalf  of  her 
proteges.  Of  all  their  sex,  these  were  the  two  women 
whom  he  most  loved  and  respected,  for  the  qualities 
which  made  them  the  equals  of  men,  and  fit  to  share 
their  counsels.  It  was  an  unusual  position  for  women  to 
attain.  Now  and  then  one  was  known  to.  Among  some 
of  the  nations,  as  with  the  Iroquois — the  title  to  their 
lands  was  held  to  vest  in  their  women,  and  could  only  be 
alienated  by  their  consent  formally  given. 

•  Their  appeal  was  not  only  to  his  humanity,  it  was  an 
appeal  to  his  sense  of  dominion,  to  his  notions  of  policy. 
He  may  have  had  no  very  accurate  notion  of  the  real 
causes  of  the  war,  nor  of  its  magnitude  as  a  whole;  nor 
what  would  induce  the  two  nations  to  make  peace.  He 
doubtless  over-estimated  the  importance  of  the  theatre  of 
hostilities,  where  he  was  one  of  the  most  conspicuous 
actors.  His  view  was  limited  to  the  head  of  Lake  Erie, 
and  the  territory  immediately  north*  and  west  of  it. 
Here,  up  to  this  last  measuring  of  arms,  the  Americans 
had  decidedly  the  worst  of  it.  Notwithstanding  their 
losses,  they  stoutly  maintained  themselves.  He  had 


Return  of  the  Exiles.  219 

never  visited  Washington  or  the  Eastern  cities.  A  barba 
rian's  only  means  of  forming  an  estimate  of  a  people's 
power  is  by  personal  inspection  of  their  numbers,  the 
extent  of  their  territory,  and  the  material  signs  of  wealth. 
At  this  last  meeting  of  these  enemies  the  British  had 
turned  back.  The  capture  of  Camp  Meigs  would  practi 
cally  have  ended  the  war.  He  now  found  the  Americans 
were  building  gigantic  ships  to  try  the  fortune  of  battle 
on  the  water,  a  useless  waste  of  means  and  time,  and 
seemingly  decisive  of  nothing,  as  the  armies  would  then 
have  to  settle  it  in  a  great  battle.  A  series  of  battles 
between  the  same  enemies  lay  out  of  the  usual  experience 
of  the  natives,  whose  principal  business  was  war.  True, 
the  Americans  had  not  dared  come  out  and  fight  him  in 
the  woods,  and  when  they  assaulted  the  soldiers  they  had 
been  nearly  all  killed  and  captured  ;  but  the  fact  remained, 
Proctor  turned  away  and  left  them,  and  the  remote  Sioux 
and  Sacs  were  called  in.  Here  was  this  people  of  French- 
town,  a  large  number  of  mouths  to  be  fed.  There  were 
their  farms  and  houses.  He  never  intended  to  despoil 
them.  The  Americans  would  drive  his  people  off.  He 
would  not  so  treat  these.  It  was  better  every  way  to 
return  and  protect  them,  and  let  them  care  for  themselves 
for  the  time. 

When  they  were  in  possession  he  promised  to  visit 
their  town,  and  place  his  sign  manual  on  all  their  dwell 
ings,  and  woe  betide  the  man,  red  or  white,  who  should 
violate  his  pledge.  He  made  no  account  of  Proctor  in 
this  case  ;  had  more  than  once  openly  compelled  him  to 
liberate  a  prisoner,  to  whom  he  felt  under  a  personal 
obligation.*  Wasegoboah  and  a  few  warriors  should 

*"  Drake's  Life." 


220  The  Tory  s  Daughter. 

attend  Edith,  and  Tecumapease,  when  they  went  to 
restore  this  people,  as  an  escort.  It  would  be  understood 
as  under  his,  Tecumseh's  sanction,  and  he  did  not  over 
estimate  his  own  power  and  reputation,  when  he  supposed 
this  would  assure  the  safety  of  this  abused  people. 

Edith  and  her  wards  hurried  their  preparations,  a  party 
went  in  advance  to  open  and  repair  the  houses,  and 
remove  or  bury  any  unseemly  remains  of  the  battle-fields. 
Good  commissary  Reynolds  furnished  stores,  the  quarter 
master  means  of  transportation  ;  and  one  morning  of  the 
warming  May,  they  started  on  their  return.  Edith, 
Tecumapease  and  her  husband,  with  Anita,  and  half  a 
dozen  of  the  youths  and  young  chiefs  in  festive  paint  and 
feathers,  attended  them  as  an  escort.  The  road  was 
now  hard  and  good,  all  the  people  were  in  high  spirits, 
and  the  considerable  procession  was  a  gay  progress. 
Out  through,  now  over  peopled  Maguaga,  the  native 
Brownstown,  both  of  which  swarmed  with  the  Indians, 
back  from  the  investment  of  Camp  Meigs.  The  lovely 
river,  running  and  dimpling  in  the  sun,  murmured  a  wel 
come  to  the  returned,  and  the  courting  birds  piped  glad 
notes  of  rejoicing.  They  had  been  long  in  possession. 
Fires  were  rekindled  on  the  deserted  hearths,  smoke 
arose  cheerily  from  the  unused  chimneys,  and  as  the 
gathering  twilight  deepened  into  night,  the  windows  were 
again  reddened  with  the  cheery  fires  from  within. 

These  were  eventful  days  in  the  life  of  Edith.  Every 
minute  had  its  labor,  its  hope,  and  its  anxiety.  It  also 
had  its  pleasure,  wholly  from  the  consciousness  that  she 
was  contributing  to  the  happiness  of  others,  enhanced  by 
the  presence  of  the  kindling  season.  What  was  most  sat 
isfying  was  the  sense  of  security  with  which  the  restored 
inhabitants  took  possession  of  their  houses  and  farms. 


Return  of  the  Exiles,  221 

Stand-Firm  had  never  recovered  the  boat  with  which  he 
carried  Dudley  from  Detroit.  He  hid  it,  as  may  be  re 
membered,  and  returned  thither  by  land.  It  was  a  mile 
below  Frenchtown,  and  in  the  afternoon  of  the  second 
day,  he,  Edith,  and  Anita  went  in  search  of  it.  An  old 
oak  tree  marked  the  place  of  deposit,  and  he  had  no 
trouble  in  finding  it,  and  in  the  same  condition  it  was 
when  placed  there,  and  with  it  the  Indian  paddles. 

Removing  it  from  the  little  cave  under  the  roots  of  the 
oak,  the  chief  placed  it  on  the  river  strand,  and  examined 
the  inner  surface,  near  the  bow  where  he  saw  Dudley 
make  an  inscription.  He  found  the  marks  strong  and 
fresh  as  when  made.  Placing  the  tip  of  a  finger  upon  it, 
he  gave  Edith  a  significant  look.  She  approached  and 
discovered  two  or  three  lines,  written  with  a  red  pencil  in 
a  firm  hand  upon  the  smooth  surface  of  the  bark.  The 
words  were  as  follows  : 

"Black  River,  October  9  and  10,  1811.  On  the  i2th 
and  i3th,  journeyed  through  the  wood;  i4th,  turned 
back  without  a  word.  She  who  would  know  the  signifi 
cance  of  these  words  will  never  see  them,  nor  know  or 
care  how  those  days  live  in  memory. 

Monday  morning,  Aug.  17,  1812.  C.  D." 

"  Her  eyes  do  see  them,  and  she  knows  it  all,"  was  her 
mental  comment. 

"  Wasegoboah,  I  want  this  boat — will  you  give  it  to 
me  ?  "  she  said  to  the  chief. 

"  It  belongs  to  my  sister,"  he  said,  graciously. 

She  beckoned  Anita  and  read  the  lines.  "  Yes,  an 
other  knows,"  said  the  Indian  girl.  "  Anita  will  yet  see 
him  in  this  boat  with  her  sister,"  she  added,  confidently. 
"  He  will  come." 


222  The  Torys  Daughter, 

"  When  he  comes,  everything  will  come  ;  all  the  loved 
and  lost,"  said  Edith,  sadly. 

"  When  the  battle  is  ended,  then  will  he  come,"  said 
the  dark  maiden,  with  gay  assurance.  "  And  Anita  will 
paddle  this  canoe  for  them." 

Wasegoboah  stood  gravely  observing  the  girls.  Anita 
read  the  inscription  audibly.  Some  of  the  words  he 
knew  the  meaning  of,  as  he  knew  there  was  something  of 
tender  interest  between  the  fair  girl  before  him  and  the 
young  American  chief,  whose  exploits  on  the  Maumee  he 
was  familiar  with.  It  was  something  after  the  fashion  of 
their  race,  which  he  did  not  fully  appreciate.  He  said 
some  words  to  Anita  in  their  tongue,  with  a  gesture 
toward  the  southern  forest,  and  a  glance  at  Edith.  Anita 
laughed  and  replied  to  him.  He  received  it  with  a  grim 
smile,  and  spoke  back  to  her. 

"  What  does  he  say  ?  "  asked  Edith. 

"  That  the  American  chief  could  come  here,  and  carry 
you  to  his  own  village,"  laughing. 

"  Oh  !     And  what  did  you  say  to  him  ?  " 

"  That  he  thinks  you  would  not  go  with  him  ;  and  his 
smile  meant  that  a  young  Indian  chief  very  much  in  ear 
nest,  would  not  mind  that ;  "  and  the  girls  laughed  very 
pleasantly  together. 

"  You  said  something  further,"  declared  the  fair  girl. 

"  I  told  him  a  young  white  chief  did  not  win  a  wife 
that  way ;  and  English  maidens  would  not  be  so  gained. 
He  thinks  your  ways  are  very  funny." 

"No  doubt.  Your  Indian  way,  Anita,  would  be  a 
simple  way  of  removing  many  difficulties." 

The  answer  was  a  significant  look  and  a  sheen  of 
white  teeth. 

"  You  bad,  Anita.     I  shall  have  to  look  out  for  my  sis- 


Return  of  tJic  Exiles.  223 

ter  on  her  own  account,  I  fear ;  she  is  so  tall,  so  much 
more  than  comely,  and  has  become  so  much  a  woman," 
now  laughing  in  turn.  "  I  wonder  which  I  am  to  look 
out  for  ?  Jim  Blue-Jacket,  or  young  Little-Turtle  ?  " 

Anita  laughed  her  most  musical  laughter,  saying,  "  We 
English,  oldest  sister  married  first." 

"  Oh,  that  is  why  you  are  so  anxious  to  have  me  dis 
posed  of."  Had  she  ever  witnessed  the  sensation  pro 
duced  by  Anita's  presence  in  the  Indian  camp,  she  might 
have  feared  for  consequences  to  the  child  herself,  whose 
interest  in  her  affair  made  her  liable  to  the  suspicion  of 
overmuch  susceptibility. 

The  next  morning  the  two  girls  took  leave  of  the  re 
stored  villagers,  and  returned  to  Maiden,  carrying  Edith's 
prize  with  them.  On  closer  inspection,  Edith's  name  was 
found  written  in  many  different  places,  showing  how  con 
stantly,  even  in  that  time  of  peril  and  flight,  she  was  in 
the  young  man's  thoughts.  It  was  grateful  to  her  maid 
enly  pride,  that  her  heart  had  not  gone  out  to  one  who 
did  not  prize  it  above  all  things  ;  and  she  had  a  right  to 
wear  his  retained  ribbon. 

These  hidden  and  now  revealed  treasures,  coming  so 
soon  after  he  sought  her  to  tell  his  love,  were  very  pre 
cious.  Surely  such  love  would  survive  the  assault  it  had 
sustained  at  her  hand,  and  seen  by  the  providence  which 
had  caused  their  meeting,  would  at  the  least  give  her  an 
opportunity  to 'show  how  entirely  she  appreciated  and 
reciprocated  it.  For  the  present  it  must  be  put  by.  She 
must  call  up  her  old  spirit,  closing  her  eyes  to  this  thing, 
and  go  forward.  As  she  reached  this  inevitable  conclu 
sion,  she  drew  herself  up,  withdrew  her  hand  from  the 
little  birch,  carried  behind  her  seat,  and  turned  her  fair 
young  face  forward  with  a  very  determined  air. 


224  The   Tory's  Daughter. 

Seemingly,  Anita's  mind  had  followed  the  mental  proc 
ess  of  the  heroic  girl.  She  burst  into  a  peal  of  light- 
hearted  laughter. 

"  My  English  sister  is  very  brave,"  she  said.  "  She  is 
a  woman." 

Mrs.  Proctor,  with  her  three  children,  the  wife  and 
family  of  the  general,  arrived  at  Maiden,  in  the  absence 
of  Edith  on  this  memorable  excursion  to  the  river  Raisin, 
a  handsome,  charming  woman,  of  gracious  manners,  and 
elevated  character.  Her  coming  was  a  social  event  at 
Maiden  and  Windsor,  and  not  without  influence  on  that 
theatre  of  the  war,  supplying  stimulus  and  strength  to  the 
infirm  purpose  and  character  of  the  British  commander, 
who  had  been  advanced  to  the  rank  of  major-general. 

With  her  came  Edith's  childhood  and  girlhood  friend, 
Mary  Coffin,  a  grand-daughter  of  the  refugee  Coffin,  and 
niece  of  Lady  Sheaffe,  whom  she  had  not  seen  since  her 
excursion  to  the  south  side  of  Lake  Erie.  She  was  a 
charming,  high-spirited  girl,  not  so  beautiful  but  that  she 
could  sincerely  admire  her  friend.  What  a  night  for  the 
restored  associates  was  that !  Anita  was  banished  to  her 
own  apartment.  They  shared  Edith's,  and  had  one  good 
unrestrained,  all  night's,  universal,  never-ending,  all-em 
bracing  girls'  talk,  amazing  and  incomprehensible  to 
men. 

Mary  had  an  affianced  lover  in  the  Canada  West  con 
tingent,  the  gallant  Lieutenant  Gordon."  The  nuptials 
had  been  postponed  by  the  war  for  a  year.  The  year 
had  elapsed,  time  called,  and  the  faithful  maiden  came  in 
prompt  response.  All  this  had  sprung  up  and  matured 
since  the  girls  last  met. 

Edith,  in  her  heart,  though  she  greatly  admired  Gor 
don,  had  never  forgiven  him  for  his  untimely  intervention 


Return  of  the  Exiles.  225 

and  arrest  of  Dudley.  He  had  partly  redeemed  himself 
by  the  testimony  he  bore  of  Dudley's  conduct  before 
Proctor ;  but  why  need  he  come  on  such  an  errand,  his 
men  throwing  the  butts  of  their  old  muskets  down  with 
such  a  startling  sound  ?  True  enough,  it  gave  her  lover 
notice  and  time  enough  to  retreat,  but  that  was  the  last 
thing  on  earth  she  then  desired,  as  he  might  have  known. 
Very  well,  he  was  Mary's  lover.  That  added  a  needed 
inch  to  his  height,  and  surrounded  him  with  a  halo  of 
romance  which  transformed  him  to  a  hero.  Their  love 
history  had  its  incidents,  its  episodes.  Edith  was  always 
sympathetic  in  the  affairs  of  her  friend,  of  all  women. 
Now  Mary  found  her  an  apt,  appreciative  listener.  Her 
story  does  not  belong  to  this  history,  which  is  obliged  to 
await  the  inefficiency  of  the  American  navy  department, 
in  equipping  and  manning  Perry's  fleet. 

During  the  lulls,  brakes,  and  questioning  times  of  Edith 
in  this  true  story  of  her  love,  Mary  had  time  to  study  the 
face  and  form  of  her  friend.  An  elusive  something 
arrested  her  attention  and  puzzled  her.  Edith  dis 
covered  that  Mary  detected  or  fancied  she  did,  some 
thing  curious  in  herself,  and  was  about  to  ask  what  it  was. 
Mary  anticipated  her. 

"  Turn  a  little,  Edith.  I  saw  it  yesterday.  Let  me 
have  a  better  look  at  you.  What  under  the  moon  is  it  ? " 
she  said.  This  was  after  her  history  and  its  discussion 
had  subsided. 

"  What  is  what  ?  " 

"  That  is  the  puzzling  thing.     In  some  way  my  Joan  of 
Arc  has  disappeared,  and  I  find  a  very  lovely,  soft,  sweet 
girl,    with   heart,   tears,    and  sympathies   for    love    and 
lovers." 
15 


226  The  Tory's  Daughter. 

"  Well,  upon  my  word  !  "  laughing  and  coloring  with 
consciousness. 

"'How  very  prettily  you  color  !     Who  can  he  be  ?  " 

"  Who  can  who  be  ?  "  now  coloring  more. 

"  Your  lover.  I've  heard  all  about  Home — he's  not 
the  man." 

"  Will  you  explain  yourself  ?  What  is  the  elusive  some 
thing  you  fancy  in  me  ?  Then  we  can  talk  of  the  man." 

"  Well,  you  were  perfect  before.  Yet,  you  are  a  trifle 
rounded.  It  is  not  that,  but  a  wistful  sweetness — I  can't 
describe  it — in  your  eyes,  face,  as  if  something  had  come, 
or  was  looked  for ;  some  new  thing  in  you,  asking  for 
something  or  somebody." 

"  Oh !  Something  you  can't  see,  nor  hear,  nor  think," 
laughing,  her  color  deepening.  "  Well  ?  " 

"  Well,"  dropping  her  eyes  from  her  vain  study,  "  I 
had  a  wise  old  grandmother,  a  bit  of  a  philosopher  in 
her  old*  woman's  way,"  pausing. 

"  Oh,  we've  all  heard  of  her." 

"  Yes.  They  say  no  woman  understands  herself.  She 
seems  to  have  had  notions  of  women.  Let  me  tell  you. 
It  was  her  notion  that  when  a  girl,  any  maiden  you  know, 
met  the  one,  the  predestined  one,  and  became  very,  very 
much  interested,  our  dear  old  mother,  who  always  knows 
what  is  going  on,  and  what  is  for  the  best  of  all,  silently, 
in  her  own  way,  prepares  her  for  what  awaits  her." 

"  Why,  Mary,  how  absurd  !  Do  you  believe  any  such 
thing  ? " 

"  How  should  I  know  ?  "  laughing  and  coloring  in  turn. 

"  Why  should  you  ?  You  are  soon  to  be  a  bride." 
Then  they  both  laughed. 

"  Well,  you  see,  the  girl  herself  would  never  know." 

"  Well,  let  me  look  at  you,"  said  Edith,  in  turn,  looking 


Return  of  the  Exiles.  227 

her  friend  over — of  slightly  more  fully  developed  form 
than  herself.  "  Mother  nature  did  her  work  for  you  so 
well," — she  said,  laughing  again,  "  Certainly  Ed  has  the 
best  reason  to  think  so." 

"  Oh,  Ed  was  not  hard  to  please,  fortunately." 

Then  more  teasing  from  Mary,  as  to  a  possible  lover. 
The  hour  of  confidence  for  Edith  had  not  come. 

"  I  shall  ask  this  princess  of  the  woods — what  a  dark, 
arch  thing  she  is,"  said  Mary. 

"  Yes,"  said  Edith,  with  assumed  carelessness.  "  She 
will  know  all  about  it." 

"  Oh,  I'll  ask  her.  She  looks  so  cunning,  and  full  of 
something  too  good  to  keep.  Were  there  any  handsome 
prisoners  ?  Say  what  you  will,  we  Americans  can  give 
odds  to  the  average  Englishman." 

"  Ed  of  course  is  above  the  average  ? " 

"  No  woman  marries  an  average  man,"  was  the  answer. 

Nor  did  she.  The  wedding  was  what  we  should  call 
swell. 

May  ran  into  June,  and  June  swelled  and  waned  to 
hot,  voluptuous  July,  when  came  the  trumpet  call  to 
battle,  and  the  bride  must  be  left  wholly  to  the  sympathy 
of  her  appreciative  friend. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

SANDUSKY. 

TECUMSEH  chafed  under  idleness.  Here  was  his 
host  of  thriftless  warriors.  There  was  Camp 
Meigs,  and  sixty  miles  below,  Camp  Seneca,  with  exposed 
Fort  Stephenson,  approachable  from  the  lake.  He  re 
quired  action.  If  Proctor  would  retain  his  allies  he  had 
no  choice.  Tecumseh  planned  the  capture  of  Meigs.  To 
Proctor  it  seemed  admirable.  The  whole  force,  white  and 
red,  streamed  forth — the  British  and  many  Indians  on 
shipboard,  the  rest  through  the  woods  to  capture 
Meigs.  It  involved  a  mock-battle.  The  soldiers,  on  their 
way  as  if  from  Camp  Seneca  to  their  friends  at  Camp 
Meigs,  were  to  fall  into  an  Indian  ambush  so  near  the 
camp  that  when  the  deceived  garrison  should  sally  out  to 
the  rescue,  both  combatants  would  turn  upon  and  over 
whelm  them. 

The  firing  in  the  mock-battle  died  away  ;  the  Indian 
yells  dwindled  to  echoes  ;  the  enemy  silently  withdrew — 
the  British  to  their  ships  to  sail  for  Sandusky  Bay,  and 
Tecumseh's  warriors  to  swarm  across  the  Black  Swamp 
to  cut  off  isolated  Stephenson — the  second  objective 
point  of  attack. 

With  nightfall,  there  dawned  upon  the  startled  gar 
rison  of  Meigs,  the  real  character  of  the  peril  and  the 

228 


Sandusky.  229 

narrow  escape  from  it.  Days  elapsed  ere  they  ceased  to 
shudder  at  the  strait  through  which  that  escape  was 
made. 

Fort  Stephenson  stood  on  the  west  side  of  the  beauti 
ful  Sandusky,  many  yards  from  the  bank,  there  not  high, 
and  near  the  western  margin  of  a  small  prairie,  the 
river  being  near  the  eastern-most  line  of  the  treeless 
plains.  Harrison  deemed  the  stockade  indefensible 
against  heavy  guns,  and  left  a  standing  order  to  Major 
Croghan,  that  if  approached  by  a  force  thus  armed,  to 
remove  the  public  property  betimfis,  and  rejoin  him  at 
Camp  Seneca,  where  he  then  had  about  800  raw  troops. 

Proctor,  with  the  41  st  and  other  regulars,  his  heavy 
guns  and  500  Indians,  made  his  appearance  at  the  head 
of  the  bay  on  the  last  day  of  July.  Meantime,  Tecumseh 
occupied  the  woods  between  the  fort  and  Camp  Seneca, 
with  two  thousand  warriors,  the  elite  of  the  Indian  army, 
deemed  ample  to  hold  Harrison  in  check,  or  destroy  him 
if  he  should  come  forth  to  aid  leaguered  Stephenson, 
while  the  British  disposed  of  the  little  fort. 

On  the  report  of  this  force,  Harrison  sent  a  peremp 
tory  order  to  Croghan  to  withdraw.  The  gallant  major, 
then  fully  twenty-one  years  of  age,  returned  a  peremptory- 
refusal.  "  I  can  defend  the  fort  and  by  heavens  I  will," 
were  the  concluding  words  of  the  curt  reply.  Harrison 
dispatched  Major  Mills  to  relieve  him,  and  ordered  -him 
to  headquarters.  The  youth  explained.  He  expected  his 
reply  would  fall  into  the  enemy's  hands.  The  woods  were 
full  of  Indians,  and  while  a  few  men  could  elude  them,  his 
force  could  not.  He  was  permitted  to  return  and  resume 
the  command.  Dudley  asked  permission  to  accompany 
him,  and  share  his  fortunes.  Harrison  had  great  confi 
dence  in  the  skill  and  coolness  of  his  chief,  and  readily 


230  The  Tory's  Daughter. 

consented.  The  young  men  reached  the  imperilled  fort 
in  safety.  The  well-known  form  of  Dudley  was  a  shield. 
Tecumseh  had  ordered  that  if  met  alone,  or  with  a  small 
party,  he  should  neither  be  killed  or  captured. 

Proctor  placed  his  guns  in  position,  and  in  a  hurried,  half 
prepared  way,  commenced  his  assault.  The  secret  of  his 
haste  was  long  a  mystery  to  his  enemy.  The  eastern 
bank  of  the  river,  opposite  the  fort,  was  left  unoccupied. 
The  unexpected  appearance  of  a  small  party  of  citizens  on 
this  bank,  wholly  fortuitous  as  is  now  known,  induced  a 
supposition  that  it  was  the  advance  of  a  force  from 
Cleveland.  The  party  discovered  the  presence  of  the  Brit 
ish  and  Indians  in  time  to  turn  back  and  escape.  Proctor 
was  alarmed  and  determined  to  open,  if  on  summons  the 
fort  was  not  surrendered.  He  and  his  officers  believed 
it  would  be  given  up  on  demand,  and  hence  he  cared  less 
about  being  in  perfect  readiness  for  an  effective  bom 
bardment. 

The  first  duty  of  the  returned  commander  was  to  re 
ceive  and  reply  to  this  summons.  Proctor's  embassy 
was  composed  of,  Colonel  Elliott,  Captain  Chambers, 
Captain  Dickinson,  and  Lieutenant  Gordon.  Croghan 
was  represented  by  Lieutenant  Shipp,  accompanied  by 
Dudley,  who  as  a  volunteer  was  without  command  or 
rank.  These  met  the  British  outside  the  fort  near  a 
small  ravine.  Dudley  was  recognized  by  the  Englishmen 
who  greeted  him  pleasantly.  He  explained  his  position 
and  referred  them  to  Lieutenant  Shipp. 

Colonel  Elliott. — General  Proctor  desires  to  spare  a  use 
less  effusion  of  blood.  His  guns,  now  all  in  position,  will 
destroy  your  works  in  half  an  hour.  The  woods  about 
you  are  filled  with  savages,  who  cannot  be  restrained  if 
we  are  obliged  to  reduce  your  works. 


Sandusky.  231 

Lieutenant  Shipp. — The  fort  will  be  defended  to  the  last 
extremity.  My  commander  is  resolved  on  that.  The 
demand  is  refused. 

Colonel  Elliott. — I  pray  you  consider,  be  advised ;  I  am 
sure  Major  Dudley  must  see  the  uselessness  of  resist 
ance. 

ZW/<y(with  a  little  flash). — I  am  here  for  the  ex 
press  purpose  of  seeing  you  do  your  worst,  Colonel 
Elliott. 

Captain  Chambers  (imperiously). — Your  commander  will 
certainly  regret  his  rashness.  When  we  are  in  pos 
session  of  your  works,  no  power  on  earth  can  restrain  the 
Indians.  The  last  man  will  be  massacred. 

Lieutenant  Shipp  (haughtily). — There  will  then  be  no  man 
to  massacre ;  you  and  your  allies  may  do  what  you  will 
with  the  dead. 

Captain  Dickinson  (pathetically). — I  shall  alway  deplore 
the  fate  of  such  fine  young  men.  » 

Dudley  (with  a  touch  of  gay  irony). — Thanks,  my  dear 
Captain.  We  will  do  what  we  may  in  our  own  way  to 
save  your  tears. 

The  parting  was  in  silence.  Two  or  three  Indians  had 
drawn  near,  under  cover  of  a  clump  of  bushes.  As  the 
Americans  turned  back  they  sprang  toward  them,  and 
one  attempted  to  snatch  Shipp's  sword  from  its  scabbard. 
Dudley  dashed  him  aside.  The  Americans  drew  their 
swords  and  confronted  the  warriors,  who  with  brandished 
tomahawks  stood  on  the  defensive. 

The  British  turned  back,  and  Elliott  shouted  in  an 
angry  voice  to  the  Indians, — "  Begone,  dogs!  "  and  they 
went  cowering  away. 

"  Poor  devils !  they  knew  it  was  their  only  chance," 
called  out  Dudley  to  the  Englishmen  gayly. 


232  The  Torys  Daughter. 

At  that  instant  Croghan  showed  on  the  parapet. 

"  Come  in,  boys,"  he  shouted,  "  and  I'll  blow  them 
to  h in  half  a  minute." 

The  great  guns  opened  one  after  another  as  at  Meigs. 
The  wide  throated  howitzers  and  cohorns  sent  shot  and 
shells.  The  deep  intonations  set  the  summer  leaves  in  a 
tremor,  rolled  up  the  bright  Sandusky,  warning  Harrison 
of  the  peril  of  his  devoted  officers  and  soldiers — all  the 
livelong  night,  the  next  morning,  all  day,  till  five  of  the 
afternoon  ;  then  the  final  effort  came. 

Through  these  thunderous  hours  there  was  little  the 
defenders  could  do.  Croghan  had  ten  or  twelve  trained 
gunners ;  these,  with  his  one  six-pounder,  he  placed  under 
the  command  of  Dudley.  As  usual,  food  for  this  one 
gun  was  scant.  Dudley  moved  it  from  one  block-house 
to  another  to  produce  the  impression  on  the  enemy  of 
many  pieces.  A  few  shots  were  exchanged  between 
prudent  Indians  and  cautious  sharpshooters.  The 
dreaded  "old  Meigs,"  the  Ohio  gun,  was  there,  and  used 
effectively  more  than  once.  The  British  fire  was  concen 
trated  on  the  north-west  angle,  and  though  strengthened 
with  bags  of  sand  and  flour,  here  the  assault  would  be 
made.  The  columns  would  sweep  forward,  dash  over  the 
glacis,  leap  into  the  ditch,  cut  through  what  the  24- 
pounders  should  leave,  and  fight  their  way  in.  Five 
hundred  trained  soldiers  with  bayonets,  and  500  Indian 
warriors,  once  an  opening  was  made,  would  make  quick 
work  of  the  160  Americans,  though  led  by  Croghan  and 
Dudley,  and  six  or  eight  more  equally  brave  and  trained 
officers.  The  skilled  instincts  of  the  young  men  knew 
when  the  decisive  hour  would  come,  as  their  training 
and  experience  taught  them  just  how  the  attempt  would 
be  made. 


Sandusky.  233 

Dudley  placed  his  gun  in  position  to  sweep  the  ditch  to 
be  crossed  by  the  assailants,  charged  with  a  half  allow 
ance  of  powder  and  a  thribble  grist  of  musket-balls, 
slugs,  scraps  of  iron,  and  grape,  and  masked  from  the 
assailants.  There  were  some  hundreds  of  new  muskets 
on  deposit  in  the  fort,  in  excess  of  those  used  by  the 
infantry.  These  were  inspected,  their  flints  fixed,  loaded, 
and  placed  in  convenient  reach  of  the  soldiers. 

There  was  a  half  hour's  increase  in  the  rapidity  of  the 
firing.  The  assaulting  columns  were  formed  and  the 
nude  and  painted  warriors,  with  their  knives  and  hatchets, 
gathered  in  the  wooded  margins  near.  The  confident 
defenders  braced  themselves  for  the  inevitable  struggle. 
At  the  signal,  Colonel  Warburton,  with  200  grenadiers, 
swept  around  to  assail  the  south  side.  The  men  of  the 
41  st  were  to  do  the  real  work.  The  fated  hour,  five 
p.  M.,  of  the  hot  August  Sunday,  came  with  a  massive 
thunder  cloud  blackening  the  west,  its  peals  now  alone 
heard.  Two  minutes  after,  silence  fell  upon  the  guns, 
whose  smoke  like  a  white  cloud  shrouded  the  near  space, 
when  suddenly  came  the  steely  gleam  of  bayonets  of  the 
assaulting  columns  stabbing  through  it,  toward  the  weak 
ened  angle.  They  emerged  upon  the  vision  of  the  de 
fenders  thirty  yards  distant,  one  led  by  Colonel  Short, 
the  other  by  the  gallant  Gordon.  From  the  first  smiting 
hail  of  American  lead  the  men  recoiled.  At  the  call  of 
their  officers  they  steadied,  and  pushed  across  the  narrow 
space,  scorched  by  the  blasting  fire,  withering,  blinding, 
maddening.  On  they  came,  on  over  the  glacis,  leaping 
into  the  ditch  below. 

"  Cheerily,  cheerily,  boys,  Fall  to  !  fall  to  !  my  men," 
called  their  fearless  colonel,  and  maddened  by  his  loss, 
and  what  to  him  was  a  criminally  useless  defence,  he 


234  The  Torys  Daughter. 

added,  turning  to  the  now  waiting  soldiers  :  "  Give  the 
damned  Yankees  no  quarter !  " 

At  the  instant  a  sound  drew  his  attention  to  the  right. 
The  masque  fell  from  the  gorged  six-pounder,  a  blazing 
match  lit  up  the  flashing  face  of  Dudley,  then  a  wide 
belch  of  fire  and  death,  as  from  the  nether  world. 

Gordon's  column  in  like  manner,  scorched  and  smitten, 
had  also  leaped  in.  A  second  rending  discharge  of  the 
six-pounder,  and  Frenchtown  and  old  Fort  Miami  were 
avenged.  Whatever  had  life  and  limbs  dropped  unused 
axe  and  useless  musket,  and  scrambled  out  of  the  reeking 
ditch,  hot  with  gushing  blood,  and  scampered,  panic- 
stricken  beings,  to  the  nearest  cover,  and  the  battle  was 
over  on  that  side. 

Short  and  Gordon  fell.  The  last  act  of  the  furious 
colonel  was  to  twist  a  white  handkerchief  on  his  sword 
point,  a  mute  appeal  for  the  mercy  to  his  brave  wounded 
he  had  forbidden  them  to  extend  to  their  slayers.  Over 
a  half  hundred  were  left  in  that  reeking  trench.  Five 
minutes  more  and  the  ground  on  that  side  was  clear  of 
the  foe.  The  catastrophe  had  overtaken  Short  and  Gor 
don  ere  Warburton  and  his  tall  grenadiers  reached  their 
point  of  attack.  The  fire  that  greeted  them  was  too  hot 
and  fatal.  They  also  broke  under  it  and  fled  for  cover 
to  the  not  remote  forest.  No  Indians  were  in  the  assault. 

Beaten,  stung  with  the  loss  of  a  fourth  of  his  soldiers, 
after  nightfall  Proctor  sent  his  stealthy  Indians  to  gather 
up  such  of  his  dead  and  wounded  as  they  could  come  at, 
and  before  three  o'clock  of  the  next  morning,  with  his 
hurriedly  embarked  soldiers,  he  was  on  his  way  down  the 
bay,  leaving  a  vessel  with  valuable  clothing  and  supplies 
to  his  enemy. 

As  the  day  closed  on  the  Americans,  the  shifting  wind 


Sandusky.  235 

sent  the  black  thunder  clouds  northward  over  the  lake, 
which  was  to  bear  the  burden  of  the  next  battle,  and  the 
last  rays  of  the  now  Sabbath  sun  lit  up  their  flag  still 
floating  over  their  battle  battered  walls.  The  tide  of  war 
had  turned.  No  hostile  foot  was  again  to  press  that 
northern  border  of  the  young  Ohio, — save  as  prisoners  in 
the  last  and  greatest  war. 

The  fatally  repulsed  expedition ary  force  came  back  to 
Maiden,  with  its  humiliation  heightened  by  the  fact  that 
it  was  inflicted  on  them  by  160  Americans  under  a  mere 
boy,  in  a  pen  of  logs,  and  one  six-pounder. 

Gordon  came  not  with  it.  The  last  his  countrymen 
saw  of  him,  was  when  with  branished  sabre  he  called  to 
his  soldiers  and  leaped  into  the  trench.  It  was  said  that 
he  was  slain.  The  sky  turned  dark  and  the  earth  faded 
from  the  vision  of  his  swooning,  expectant  bride.  When 
she  returned  to  consciousness  Edith  was  with  her.  She 
came  back  to  realize  the  certainty  of  her  loss. 

"  No,  no,  Mary,  do  not  utterly  despair  of  his  life.  I  was 
told  that  the  most  beautiful,  and  the  bravest  of  men,  the 
beginning  and  end  of  love  for  me,  had  fallen  in  battle.  I 
saw  him  in  vision,  mangled  by  the  warriors  I  had  armed, 
yet  within  an  hour  came  the  tidings  that  he  lived." 

Mary  heard  the  words  as  a  kindly  figure  of  speech, 
bringing  small  hope,  and  she  saw  not  their  pertinence  to 
the  experience  of  her  friend,  who  yet  could  so  entirely 
enter  into  her  feelings.  Edith,  on  the  strength  of  her  own 
history,  felt  a  strong  assurance  that  they  would  certairtly 
soon  hear  that  Gordon  was  with  the  Americans,  a  pris 
oner.  To  her  repetition  of  this,  her  friend  came  to  listen 
finally  with  something  of  rekindling  hope.  At  near  night 
fall  of  the  day  following  the  return  of  the  British,  came 
an  Indian  runner  from  Brownstown  bringing  an  open  let- 


236  The   Torys  Daughter. 

ter  to  General  Proctor,  under   the   care  of  Mr.  Grayson. 
It  came  to  Edith's  hand  and  she  read  it. 

"  FORT  STEPHENSON,  August  4,  1813. 
"  General, — 

"Lieutenant  Gordon  was  severely  wounded, 
and  suffered  most  from  loss  of  blood.  Is  in  good  hands 
— will  assuredly  recover.  A  flag  bearing  this  note  will 
admit  Mrs.  Gordon  and  attendants — any  friends  of  his. 
He  will  be  paroled  when  wished.  All  wounded  doing 
well. 

"  C.  D. 
"  Chief  of  Staff  N.  W.  Army,'  U.  S." 

She  knew  the  hand,  and  had  familiarized  herself  to  the 
significance  of  the  initial  signature.  In  the  impulse  of 
grateful  emotion  she  knelt,  and  with  the  missive  to  her 
lips  thanked  God  for  herself,  as  for  her  stricken  friend. 
She  then  ran  with  it  to  her,  to  whom  it  was  as  the  voice 
of  Him  who  called  back  the  dead.  Then  Edith  sought 
her  father,  who  carried  the  missive  to  Proctor. 

A  verbal  message  came  with  it  faithfully  delivered,  as 
the  trained  native  bearers  transmit  and  deliver  messages. 
A  Shawanoe  serving  with  the  Americans,  carried  Dud 
ley's  note  to  Tecumseh  as  he  was  gathering  his  force  to 
return  to  Maiden,  who  sent  it  forward  by  a  fast  runner. 

Gordon  was  a  favorite,  and  the  word  that  he  was  safe 
soon  made  the  circuit  of  the  little  circle  of  officers.  It 
also  trahspired  from  whom  the  joy  bearing  note  came. 
Etiith  was  almost  as  happy  as  was  the  young  bride.  Her 
father  so  managed  that  the  letter  came  back  to  her  hand, 
where  it  remained. 

Early  the  next  morning  the  little  "  Edith  "  with  her  one 
tall  mast  ran  down  the  river  with  Mary,  bearing  a  letter 
commending  her  to  General  Harrison,  with  thanks ;  also 


Sandusky.  237 

an  experienced  nurse.  Edith  and  Anita  saw  her  off. 
Five  days,  and  a  letter  came  to  Edilh  from  Mary,  cover 
ing  twenty-three  pages  closely  written.  She  was  hopeful 
and  happy.  There  had  come  to  her  a  wonderful  revela 
tion,  an  account  of  which  occupied  most  of  her  paper. 

She  found  her  husband  in  a  hopeful  way.  Dudley 
rescued  him  from  the  gory  trench,  where  life  was  fast 
ebbing  way.  The  now  happy  youth  told  his  wife  what  he 
knew  of  his  friend's  luckless  love.  This  then  was  the 
suspected  lover.  Of  course  she  met  Dudley,  and  found 
opportunity  to  verify  Gordon's  statement.  The  young 
American  said  little  to  her  and  she  saw  that  he  accepted 
the  tent  scene  and  Edith's  words  as  final  of  their  relations 
and  rendering  his  love  hopeless. 

Five  days  later  the  "  Edith  "  bore  the  wedded  lovers 
back  to  Maiden. 

Perry  was  abroad  with  his  armed  ships  seeking  his  foe, 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

WATCHING WAITING. 

THE  native  warriors  returned  from  Sandusky  dis 
appointed,  discontented,  sullen.  Many  whose  vil 
lages  were  nearest  stole  away  with  their  women  and 
children, — as  the  way  of  the  uncertain  Indian  is. 

Tecumseh  had  now  no  confidence  in  Proctor  as  a  gen 
eral,  no  trust  in  his  honor  as  a  man.  He  constantly  com 
pared  him  with  Brock,  which  was  unfortunate.  While  they 
held  the  lake  undisputed,  he  would  have  swept  all  the 
settlements  on  its  southern  border.  Because  the  enemy 
sheltered  himself  behind  palisades,  he  could  see  no 
reason  why  Proctor  should  butt  his  stupid  head  against 
them.  Pontiac  failed  to  take  Detroit.  They  failed  to 
take  Fort  Harrison,  Fort  Wayne,  Meigs  and  Stephenson. 
The  Americans  would  never  fight  unless  in  a  log  pen,  with 
a  ditch  around  it.  Let  him  stick  to  his  coop  if  he  wanted 
to.  He  would  leave  him  there,  go  by  him,  and  sweep 
everything  from  around  him.  He  would  lay  waste  all  his 
plantations,  make  desert  the  settlements,  cut  off  all  sup 
plies — that  was  his  plan. 

Now  what?  Suppose  Barclay  took  the  new  ships, 
what  then  ?  They  would  be  just  where  they  were  before. 
Harrison  in  his  forts,  Proctor  withdrawing  his  sore  head 
from  them  ;  and  so  it  would  go,  till  the  warriors  deserted, 
then  Harrison  would  come  and  Proctor  would  run  away. 

If  his  one  armed  father  failed — if  Perry  took  his  ships, 
238 


Watching —  Waiting.  239 

Harrison  would  come  in  all  the  ships.  He  saw  no  prepa 
ration  to  fight  him  at  his  landing.  The  guns  had  gone 
from  the  forts,  all  the  warriors  saw  that.  No  wonder 
they  were  discouraged.  The  Sacs,  the  Foxes,  the  Chip- 
pewas,  and  Sioux  could  not  go  so  easily.  Tecumseh  had 
lost  the  heart  and  hope  which  enabled  him  to  hold,  gov 
ern,  and  lead  them.  He  put  on  added  austerity  at  times  ; 
at  times  more  address.  His  personal  resources  though 
remarkable  were  fully  taxed.  He  was  in  constant  asso 
ciation  with  the  chiefs  of  the  remote  tribes,  was  their  sole 
hope  and  stay.  He  knew  their  defection  would  ruin  all. 
Walk-in-the-Water  had  shown  signs  of  walking  away  on 
land.  All  would  go  but  those  of  his  immediate  personal 
following.  For  himself  to  withdraw  would  be  to  return 
to  the  intolerable  condition  of  things  which  drove  them 
to  war,  aggravated  by  a  virtual  defeat.  The  Americans 
had  lost  many  men,  and  their  numbers  in  no  way  seemed 
to  diminish. 

The  Indians  had  many  causes  of  complaint,  and  the 
chief  approached  the  general  with  a  freedom  none  other 
dared  assume. 

The  militia  though  dismissed  with  contempt  were  soon 
called  to  resume  their  arms  which  they  were  prompt  to 
do ;  little  was  grown  for  subsistence,  and  now  Perry  was 
abroad.  The  question  of  food  soon  became  pressing. 
The  subjects  of  the  "  King  of  the  Woods  "  were  served 
with  horse-flesh,  while  the  soldiers  had  beef.  At  his 
demand  this  had  to  be  set  right. 

He  was  on  Bois  Blanc  Island  when  Perry  first  ap 
proached  Maiden.  He  was  pleased  that  he  came.  He 
assured  his  warriors  that  the  British  would  go  forth  and 
destroy  his  ships.  He  believed  they  would.  The  Indians 
hastened  down  to  the  shore  to  see  the  battle.  The  chief 


240  The  Torys  Daughter. 

saw  no  signs  that  their  ships  were  even  going  out.  He 
launched  his  canoe  and  hastened  to  Proctor. 

"  You  boasted  a  few  days  since  that  you  commanded 
the  lake.  Why  don't  you  go  out  and  fight  the  Americans? 
See,  see  them  yonder — they  have  come  for  you  !  They 
dare  you  !  You  shall  go  and  fight  them."  * 

There  seemed  to  him  no  excuse.  None  why  the  new 
ship  was  not  ready.  The  Americans  had  built  ten  in  the 
meantime. 

When  the  new  ship  was  done,  and  Barclay  refused 
Perry's  more  formal  challenge,  Tecumseh  was  certain 
that  something  beside  material  was  wanting.  He  dis 
trusted  Barclay,  and  began  to  have  misgivings  of  the 
result  when  the  fleets  should  join  battle.  Barclay  was 
reluctant.  The  fleet  in  his  hand  was  what  he  had  asked 
for,  when  he  knew  to  a  gun  the  proposed  force  of  the 
American. 

The  matter  of  supplies  became  imperious.  The  men, 
the  sailors  were  on  short  rations.  The  fleet  must  go  to 
Long  Point.  On  the  way  it  must  meet  and  fight  the 
American. 

The  morning  of  September  10  was  the  beginning  of 
a  ripe  summer  day,  and  the  six  royal  ships  in  the  glory  of 
fresh  paint,  white  canvas,  and  flags,  went  forth  to  battle 
and  assured  victory.  There  was  a  great  waving  of  hand 
kerchiefs  from  dock  yards  and  points  of  observation,  and 
a  dipping  of  flags  from  fort  and  standard  bearers.  The 
ladies  of  Windsor  and  Maiden  were  there,  with  the  scar 
let  plumed  officers,  gay  and  high-hearted,  to  see  them 
sail  to  the  conquest  of  green,  dimpling  Erie. 

In  a  group  conspicuously  apart,   stood  Mrs,  Proctor, 

*  Drake's  "  Tecumseh." 


Watching  —  Waiting.  24 1 

Edith  Grayson,  Mary  Gordon,  and  Anita.  How  glad  and 
proud  the  brave  show  made  them  !  Britain  sending  forth 
her  ships  and  sailors  to  chastise  an  insolent  foe  on  her 
chosen  field.  Undoubtedly  they  would  be  gallantly  met. 
Mrs.  Gordon  brought  back  a  great  deal  of  American 
gossip  of  young  Perry.  They  knew  the  English  officers 
spoke  respectfully  of  him.  They  knew  he  would  fight 
heroically,  persistently.  Since  the  older  Hollanders,  the 
English  had  met  no  such  foes  on  the  sea  as  these  young, 
lithe  Americans.  Many  brave  men  would  fall.  All 
three  ladies  were  each  devoutly  thankful  that  the  one 
dearest  was  not  on  those  low,  unguarded  decks.  Neither 
they  nor  any  spectator  had  misgiving  of  the  result.  Ere 
nightfall,  the  king's  ships  would  return,  convoying  the 
lately  defying  ships  of  the  foe,  captive  and  abased. 

Away  they  went  down  the  river  and  out  of  sight.  2'hey 
did  come  once  again.  The  sun  clomb  the  cloudless  sky. 
The  meridian  was  reached,  the  anxious  spectators  still 
waited.  Noon  passed,  then  a  single  boom  ;  another, 
then  a  roar  came  rolling  up  the  lake,  striking  the  wooded 
shores,  lifting  and  rolling  over  the  forest,  swelling  up  the 
river,  and  spreading  in  waves  over  the  level  shores.  The 
forts  at  Maiden  and  farther  Detroit  heard  the  voices  of 
their  own  guns.  What  a  start  that  first  gun  gave  them 
all !  More  than  did  the  heavy  broadsides  later.  Then 
came  the  fainter  notes  of  the  enemy's  reply.  The  battle 
had  joined,  and  raged,  then  a  lull  with  single  guns.  The 
battle  was  over !  No.  A  burst  of  guns,  then  quiet.  Two 
hours  since  the  first — sure  it  was  over  now.  Somehow 
after  the  ships  disappeared  down  the  river,  and  were  out  of 
sight,  misgiving  stole  traitorously  into  the  hearts  of  the 
waiters,  watchers,  and  prayers  at  Maiden.  Shots  came 
again,  singly,  increasing,  became  indistinguishable  ;  then 
16 


242  The  Tory's  Daughter. 

bursts  upon  bursts  like  awful  peals  of  thunder !  Louder 
and  louder;  overtopping,  swallowing  the  memory  of  the 
earlier  tumult.  All  the  guns  of  all  the  ships,  more  than 
one  hundred  cannon  in  continous  concert.  This  was  the 
battle  at  close  quarters !  What  man  could  survive  it  ? 
What  ship  float  under  it  ?  Briton  and  American  madly 
bent  on  mutual  destruction.  Surely,  Barclay  had  laid  his 
foe  close  aboard,  was  breaking  his  line  as  taught  by  the 
great  admiral.  The  cloud  of  battle  rose  on  the  south 
eastern  horizon,  spread  and  pyred  upward.  The  lake 
was  obscured  as  the  southern  breeze  wafted  the  sulphurous 
cloud  northward.  Ten  or  fifteen  minutes  of  this  awful 
tumult,  then  silence  as  from  heaven  fell  over  the  lake. 
That  was  the  battle — past  their  conception  of  its  possible 
din.  How  had  it  gone  ?  Oh,  how  had  it  gone  ?  Who  had 
thought  this  question  could  arise  ?  They  had  underrated 
this  young  American  lieutenant.  They  had  counted 
Dudley  as  exceptional.  This  Perry  was  the  superior  of 
Dudley.  Surely — "Barclay  of  Trafalgar,"  as  they  were 
fond  of  calling  the  old  hero,  had  been  fairly  matched. 
The  American  had  fought  all  his  ships,  all  his  guns,  all 
his  men,  to  their  utmost.  Had  he  submitted  ?  God,  what 
a  question  ! 

The  battle  was  really  over,  all  the  glasses  from  all  the 
heights  saw  no  further  signs,  nor  heard  further  note  of  it. 

Light  craft  were  clown  in  the  lake — the  "  Edith  "  with 
others,  to  observe,  gather  up  the  news.  Indians  were  on 
the  lower  shore.  Mid  afternoon — nothing.  Later,  a  sail, 
then  another  arose.  Their  lookout  returning  ?  No. 
They  were  war  vessels.  The  van  of  their  victorious  fleet 
returning  !  Joy  !  Joy  !  Soon  two  more  appeared.  How 
is  this  ?  Victors  would  come  together.  They  must  be 
their  craft  of  observation,  only  they  had  but  three. 


Watching —  Waiting.  243 

While  these  queries  were  pending,  the  two  stern-most 
opened  fire  on  those  nearest.  Were  these  the  Americans 
fleeing  ?  They  would  not  come  that  way.  These  nearer 
returned  the  fire.  Not  many  shots,  and  the  affair  between 
them  was  over.  The  two  in  pursuit  approached  the  pur 
sued  who  made  no  effort  to  escape.  The  ships  neared, 
were  in  a  group,  then  all  headed  down  the  lake  !  God  of 
heaven  !  This  was  not  victory !  These  fleeing  were  their 
ships,  crippled  past  escape  or  defence, — were  captured, 
lost! 

The  fleet  was  lost,  Detroit,  Maiden,  Canada  West — 
all! 

What  a  night  of  despair  for  the  British  shore. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

MRS.    GORDON   AS   AMBASSADOR. 

TECUMSEH  and  his  warriors,  as  claimed,  may  have 
seen  the  battle,  and  the  sailing  of  the  ships  the 
next  morning  into  American  waters.  The  lookout  sails 
stole  back  to  Maiden  in  the  night.  It  was  certainly 
known  on  the  morning  of  the  nth,  that  the  united  fleets 
sailed  into  Perry's  Bay,  and  Tecumseh  demanded  of 
Proctor  the  meaning  of  this  movement,  whenever  he 
learned  it. 

"  My  ships  have  whipped  the  American,"  he  replied. 
"  Of  course  they  are  much  damaged.  They  will  all  be 
here  in  a  few  days." 

Tecumseh  was  unbelieving.  He  saw  signs  of  flight. 
The  eyes  of  his  chiefs  were  acute.  They  shared  their 
leader's  opinion  of  Proctor.  They  believed  his  ships 
were  lost ;  that  the  Americans  would  now  be  upon  them. 
"  We  will  fight  them  when  they  come.  In  the  woods,  if 
they  march  ;  when,  and  where  they  land,  if  they  come  in 
the  big  canoes.  We  will  not  retreat," — was  the  result 
of  their  consultations. 

Tecumseh  saw  the  valuable  and  heavy  property  sent 
up  the  river.  He  demanded  the  meaning  of  it.  Proctor 
said  he  was  sending  it  up  the  Thames  for  safety.  The 
chief  would  not  be  trifled  with.  He  demanded  a  council. 
Proctor  was  compelled  to  assent.  All  the  chiefs  were 
present.  Elliott  was  to  interpret.  In  his  speeches 

244 


Mrs.  Gordon  as  Ambassador.  245 

Tecumseh  always  used  his  native  tongue.  When  all 
were  seated,  he  arose  and  delivered  the  well-known 
speech  or  phillipic  part  of  the  history  of  the  war.* 

The  English,  though  simple  and  dignified,  reads  tamely. 
The  chief  arose  in  his  native  costume,  the  simple  hunting 
shirt  and  leggings ;  fixed  his  eye  upon  the  general,  and 
never  removed  it.  His  look  and  mobile  face,  his  flashing 
eye,  graceful,  rapid,  vehement  gesture,  and  tones  of  voice, 
quite  advised  Proctor  of  its  biting  qualities,  its  sarcastic 
irony,  and  contemptuous  spirit.  He  did  not  wish  to  hear 
an  oral  translation  of  it.  Elliott  secured  it  by  a  method 
of  his  own. 

Proctor  had  the  tact  to  say  when  it  was  ended,  that 
it  was  of  such  importance  that  Colonel  Elliott  would 
deliver  him  a  written  copy,  which  he  wished  to  lay  before 
their  father,  Mr.  Grayson,  who  as  they  knew  represented 
their  Canadian  father,  Governor  Prevost,  and  that  by 
him  his  answer  should  be  returned  the  next  day. 

This  was  satisfactory  because  the  chief  had  unchanged 
confidence  in  Grayson,  undiminished  regard  for  Edith. 
The  only  thing  in  her  he  ever  disapproved,  was  her  treat 
ment  of  Dudley — American  though  he  was. 

Mr.  Grayson  delivered  Proctor's  reply  in  the  first  per 
son.  It  was  in  fact  his,  and  translated  paragraph  by  par 
agraph  as  delivered. 

"  My  brothers  will  hear  me,"  he  began.  "  I  have  con 
sidered  the  chief's  words,  which  are  weighty.  I  will  not 
say  he  labors  under  mistakes.  The  same  things  appear 
differently  to  different  men.  I  will  not  .now  speak  of  the 
past.  To-day  is  too  important  to  be  wasted  on  yesterday. 
General  Proctor  has  to  depend  on  Governor  Prevost.  If 

*  See  Drake's  "  Tecumseh." 


246  The  Torys  Daughter. 

he  has  failed  in  his  word  to  you,  his  Canada  father  did 
not  furnish  the  means. 

"  Listen,  that  we  may  hear  and  know  how  we  are  sit 
uated  to-day,  so  that  we  may  act  wisely  and  all  together. 
We  have  lost  all  our  ships.  The  Americans,  contrary  to 
our  expectations,  captured  them.  Brave  men  do  not  sit 
and  cry  for  a  lost  battle.  Let  the  women  do  that.  The 
wise  chief  sees  how  he  can  repair  the  loss,  save  himself 
from  more  loss. 

"  What  is  wisest  for  us  now  to  do  ?  We  can  bemoan, 
we  can  find  fault,  we  can  reproach.  These  do  not  help 
us.  They  help  the  Americans.  Our  scouts  say  General 
Harrison  has  15,000  soldiers  at  Sandusky.  Let  us  sup 
pose  he  has  half  that  many.  That  gives  him  nearly  five 
to  our  one.  He  has  all  the  ships  to  bring  them  here. 
Can  we  meet  him  when  he  lands,  under  the  muzzles  of 
all  his  great  guns  ?  Were  Brock  here,  would  he  attempt 
that  ?  Our  great  guns  went  in  our  ships.  The  Ameri 
cans  will  now  bring  them  to  fight  us.  Our  forts  without 
their  guns  could  not  destroy  his  ships,  nor  have  we 
enough  left  to  defend  them  with. 

"  Let  my  brothers  hear  me. 

"  Could  we  beat  the  Americans  back,  how  can  we  live 
here? 

"  We  are  very  short  of  provisions  now.  We  have  no 
corn,  no  wheat.  Winter  is  upon  us.  Your  warriors  and 
women  are  without  blankets,  our  soldiers  without  clothes. 

"  We  can  bring  no  more  from  Long  Point.  Everything 
now  must  come  from  Burlington  Heights,  200  miles 
through  the  woods.  When  they  reach  the  Thames,  they 
might  now  be  captured  before  they  reach  us. 

"  Would  it  not  be  wiser   for   us   to   all   go   on    to   the 


Mrs.  Gordon  as  Ambassador.  247 

Thames,  where  we  would  meet  our  supplies  and  so  be 
sure  of  them  ? 

"  Let  my  brothers  listen.  Where  can  we  best  fight 
the  American  ?  Here,  where  he  can  come  with  all  his 
ships,  all  his  soldiers,  all  his  big  guns  ?  If  he  had  to 
follow  us  on  to  the  Thames,  he  must  leave  part  of  his 
ships,  men,  and  guns,  here.  The  farther  he  had  to  go,  the 
fewer  soldiers  could  he  bring  to  fight  us  with. 

"  We  will  not  go  beyond  his  reach.  Is  it  not  wise  to  go 
so  far,  that  he  will  be  obliged  to  fight  us  with  an  army, 
that  we  can  be  very  certain  of  beating  ?  Then  he  must 
turn  and  run  from  us  and  we  pursue  him. 

"  If  for  these  reasons  it  is  wise  to  take  up  a  new  posi 
tion  on  the  upper  Thames,  where  our  remaining  guns  can 
be  carried,  where  our  gunboats  can  go,  where  a  fort 
might  be  built,  and  where  but  a  part  of  the  American 
army  could  follow  us,  it  would  be  wise  to  go  at  once,  and 
have  everything  in  readiness  to  meet  the  Americans. 

"  We  will  destroy  the  fort  at  Detroit ;  ruin  and  make 
useless  all  the  fortifications  at  Maiden,  so  the  Americans 
shall  find  only  wreck  and  ruin.  We  will  take  off  every 
horse,  all  the  means  which  would  help  him  in  his  war 
against  us,  leaving  only  food  for  those  who  do  not  go 
with  us. 

"  Colonel  Elliott  has  made  all  my  words  plain  in  your 
ears.  My  brothers  will  ponder  them  wisely  and  General 
Tecumseh  will  render  an  answer  to  General  Proctor, 
when  it  shall  please  him." 

"  Will  my  father  go  with  the  army  to  the  Thames? " 
asked  Tecumseh. 

"  So  long  as  my  brother  and  the  chiefs  and  their 
warriors  remain  with  General  Proctor,  I  shall  go  with 
them." 


248  The  Torys  Daughter. 

"  My  father  has  spoken  well,"  said  the  chief,  and  there 
was  a  general  assent  on  the  part  of  the  assembled  chiefs. 

Tecumseh  met  Proctor  the  next  day,  and  assented  to 
the  plan  of  a  new  position  on  the  upper  Thames.  The 
chief  imposed  the  sole  condition,  that  at  such  point  as  he 
should  select,  subject  so  far  as  the  ground  was  concerned 
to  the  approval  of  the  general,  they  should  give  the 
Americans  battle.  With  this  Proctor  expressed  himself 
content. 

Meantime  the  Indians  were  to  pass  over  to  the  Canada 
side,  and  be  subsisted  by  McKee,  Proctor  promising  a 
supply  of  blankets  and  food — a  promise  the  sorely  tried 
general  knew  was  beyond  the  hope  of  present  keeping. 

American  officers  and  writers  agreed  with  Tecumseh 
that  Proctor's  true  course  was  the  heroic  one,  assault  Har 
rison  at  his  landing.  They  allege  that  his  personal  fear 
inspired  his  action.  Whatever  were  his  faults  as  a  gen 
eral,  or  infirmities  of  character  as  a  man,  whoever  ex 
amines  the  straits  in  which  he  found  himself  will  be  sat 
isfied  that  his  weakness  was  not  shown  so  much  in  his 
resolution  to  retreat  as  the  mode  and  time  of  conducting 
it. 

It  is  clear  that  he  did  not  expect  to  be  pursued  up  the 
Thames.  It  is  equally  clear  if  he  was,  he  never  intended 
to  turn  and  give  battle.  What  he  ultimately  intended  for 
his  allies  is  less  certain.  Probably  retain  them  till  he 
was  safe  and  then  leave  them  to  shift  for  themselves. 
He  would  hardly  break  openly  with  Tecumseh.  It  is 
said  he  pretended  to  the  chief  in  this  conference  that  he 
expected  to  find  reinforcements  on  the  Thames,  where  he 
intended  to  build  a  strong  fort. 

Measures  for  the  evacuation  were  now  actively  entered 
upon.  Such  an  effective  demolition  of  the  fortifications, 


Mrs,  Gordon  as  Ambassador.  249 

navy  yard  and  public  works,  was  made,  as  precludes  the 
idea  that  Proctor  expected  to  return  to  their  occupancy. 
So  cleanly  he  picked  up  the  horses  that  on  the  arrival 
of  the  horseless  Americans  but  one  sorry  beast  could  be 
found  for  the  weary  generals,  and  this  Harrison  assigned 
to  the  venerable  Governor  Shelby,  of  Kings  Mountain 
fame.  Leisurely — criminally  so,  if  he  expected  pursuit, 
Proctor  sent  off  his  valuables.  Many  of  the  loyal  citizens 
wanted  to  go ;  in  short  a  vast  amount  of  unmilitary 
material  and  men  accompanied  him  which  could  but  em 
barrass  him,  should  prompt  action  become  necessary. 

Finally  the  army  took  up  its  march.  The  Indians, 
warriors  and  women  were  on  the  move — the  easiest  mobi 
lized  of  any  force. 

Proctor's  rear  guard  did  not  leave  Maiden  till  Sep 
tember  28,  and  then  it  was  almost  an  escape. 

Harrison  was  at  that  hour  landing  four  miles  below. 

Colonel  Johnson  with  his  famous  Kentucky  legion  of 
mounted  infantry  was  at  Camp  Meigs.  When  the  fleet 
and  transports  reached  the  Maumee,  he  marched  to 
Detroit,  keeping  abreast  of  the  transports  up  the  river, 
bringing  joy  to  Frenchtown,  and  sending  a  thrill  to 
Detroit  from  which  fell  Proctor's  fetters  of  odious 
martial  law.  The  American  flag  was  raised  over  the 
dismantled  fort,  on  his  arrival. 

Harrison  landed  on  the  low  shore  covered  by  sand 
ridges.  Beyond  these  he  expected  to  find  the  embattled 
Britons  flanked  by  their  allies.  His  advance  found  an 
empty  plain.  The  approach  to  deserted  and  dismantled 
Maiden  betrayed  its  condition. 

With  his  staff  and  a  guard,  Harrison  pushed  forward 
near  the  town.  Instead  of  an  army  he  was  met  by 
a  small  party  of  ladies  apparently  seeking  an  interview 


250  The  Tory's  Daughter, 

with  the  commander.  Seeing  the  enemy,  they  paused, 
waiting  to  be  approached.  Harrison,  attended  by  young 
General  Cass,  went  forward  to  learn  their  wishes. 

Lovely  Mrs.  Gordon  was  with  them,  whom  the  gen 
eral  had  met  at  Fort  Stephenson.  She  took  a  little  step 
forward  and  stood  distressed,  hardly  daring  to  look  up. 

"  Mrs.  Gordon  ! "  cried  the  general,  lifting  his  plumed 
hat  and  smiling  graciously.  "  What  do  you  wish  ?  You 
have  but  to  name  it  if  it  depends  on  me." 

She  hesitated,  reddened,  turned  pale,  tears  in  her  eyes. 
"  How  can  I  say  it !  How  " — she  broke  down. 

Harrison  advanced,  took  her  hand.  "  Be  composed,  I 
pray  you.  You  have  no  cause  for  alarm  at  my  presence. 
You,  your  friends  and  people,  shall  remain  as  free  and 
receive  as  full  protection  in  all  possible  ways  as  if 
under  your  own  flag." 

"  Oh,  I  knew  it,  I  knew  it !  It  was  that  we  came  to 
ask." 

"  Those  whose  pleasure  it  is  to  protect  you,  have  been 
called  by  duty  elsewhere  ;  we  will  see  that  want  of  safety 
is  not  added  to  your  other  troubles.  I  may  not  hope  my 
presence  will  give  you  pleasure.  I  will  make  it  as  little 
painful  as  possible.  This  say  from  me  to  all  your  people. 
I  will  issue  a  general  order  which  will  allay  apprehen 
sion,  I  trust." 

"Thanks  !  thanks,  General !  Had  I — had  we  selected 
an  enemy  to  rule  us,  it  would  have  been  General  Har 
rison."  She  said  it  very  well.  The  general  bowed. 

"  These  are  ladies  of  Maiden.  You  have  so  kindly 
anticipated  our  errand  that  we  can  only  thank  you,"  she 
added,  now  her  usual  self.  They  all  murmured  thanks. 

"  I  can  have  but  a  word  now,  Mrs.  Gordon.  I  shall 
send  round  to  inquire  after  your  husband." 


Mrs.  Gordon  as  Ambassador.  251 

"Thanks,  General."  And  the  ladies  turned  back  to 
discuss  the  general,  as  women  would  under  any  circum 
stances. 

Harrison  had  taken  in  the  whole  situation,  or  he  had 
not  lingered  there  in  the  first  hour,  in  the  enemy's 
country. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

FLIGHT. 

WHEN  the  Gordons  returned  from  Sandusky, 
everything  at  Maiden  was  alarm  and  expectation. 
There  were  abundant  opportunities  for  meetings  and  long 
talks  between  the  restored  friends.  Mary  had  her  hus 
band,  who  had  passed  the  period  of  anxiety  with  his 
wounds  to  one  of  tender  care,  and  for  whom  time  alone 
was  needed  for  full  recovery.  His  position  was  to  her 
one  of  exceptional  advantage;  he  was  exempt  for  the 
present  from  the  peril  of  battle,  yet  the  poor  fellow  was 
beginning  to  chafe  at  this  enforced  inaction  during  this 
time  of  din  and  preparation  for  coming  conflict,  which 
would  involve  all  arms. 

Edith  was  a  person  of  scarcely  less  interest  to  her 
friend.  She  now  for  the  first  time  had  a  tender  appreci 
ative  woman  of  her  own  race,  to  whom  she  could  confide 
her  heart's  history.  Mary  was  a  woman  of  a  sensitive, 
proud  nature,  not  yet  abased,  as  some  are,  by  the  inti 
mate  association  which  marriage  permits  with  a  coarser 
fibred  man.  She  understood  and  appreciated  Edith's 
motives,  the  action  of  her  mind,  the  elusive  play  of  her 
maiden  instincts,  so  unappreciable  by  the  average  man. 
She  had  more  than  her  letter  contained  to  tell  of  Dudley. 
Their  intimacy  was  a  source  of  exquisite  satisfaction  to 
Edith,  who  looked  upon  Mary  as  an  expert  in  the  ways 

252 


Flight.  253 

of  the  hearts  and  loves  of  men,  from  her  position  as  a 
lover  and  her  two  months'  experience  as  a  bride. 

There  was  no  time  or  material  of  which  plans  could  be 
constructed  to  advance  the  tender  interests  of  the 
exceptional  lovers,  in  the  presence  of  this  horrid  war. 
They  were  in  hostile  camps,  about  to  send  forth  their 
soldiers  to  battle. 

Then  came  the  awful  fight  on  the  lake,  followed  by 
the  certainty  of  Harrison's  approach,  the  terror  of  his 
coming,  the  hurry,  disgrace,  and  mortal  depression  inci 
dent  to  the  escape  from  him.  Escape  it  was  in  the  eyes 
of  these  women. 

The  gay,  high-hearted  Anita  was  a  source  of  hope  and 
spirit  through  the  darkness  of  these  days.  She  hoped 
Edith  would  remain  at  Maiden,  with  her  friends  the 
Gordons.  She  was  conscious  of  occupying  a  position  on 
her  own  account.  She  had  several  times  met  the  young 
Recl-Wing  from  the  distant  Rock  River,  beyond  Lake 
Michigan.  It  was  thought,  too,  that  the  defection  of 
young  Little-Turtle  was  on  her  account.  Whether  it  was 
or  not,  he  had  returned  to  his  village  beyond  the  Wabash 
on  the  Eell  River. 

Edith  had  no  choice  save  to  accompany  her  father,  who 
saw  if  the  war  on  the  lake  was  adverse,  that  retreat  or 
surrender  was  inevitable  for  them.  She  had  an  inter 
view  with.  Tecumseh.  He  had  made  up  his  mind:  He 
was  firm,  resolved,  doing  all  in  his  power,  but  oppressed 
with  the  gloom  which  is  not  a  stranger  to  men  of  the 
highest  endowments.  He  expressed  concern  for  her, 
spoke  of  Dudley,  his  own  personal  obligation  to  him, 
and  his  purpose  to  spare  him  in  battle,  if  in  his  power. 
Edith  expressed  a  doubt  of  there  being  a  battle.  The 
chief  said  there  would  be,  and  he  himself  should  not 


254  The  Tory's  Daughter. 

survive  it.  Edith  was  shocked  by  his  gloomy  view  of 
his  own  fate,  and  combated  it.  She  made  little  impres 
sion  on  him.  He  spoke  of  his  niece  with  tenderness  and 
concern.  His  brother,  the  prophet,  was  present,  and  he 
attended  the  girls  from  the  chief's  quarters  on  their  return. 
He  said  his  brother  looked  forward  to  the  Thames 
expedition  as  the  close  of  his  career.  That  the  pros 
pect  for  his  people  filled  him  with  gloom.  Anita  rallied 
him  in  a  brave,  high-hearted  way,  as  she  had  not  dared 
to  in  the  presence  of  her  greater  uncle,  and  spoke  words 
of  cheer  and  hope  for  him. 

Her  example  was  not  lost  on  Edith.  This  was  the 
province  of  a  woman  in  the  day  of  darkness.  She,  too, 
had  shared  the  common  depression.  She  was  anxious 
for  her  father,  for  Dudley;  she  had  not  thought  that 
Tecumseh  could  be  slain,  though  impressed  by  his  words 
and  manner.  She  saw  Anita  was  not,  and  she  now 
rekindled  her  own  spirit  from  that  of  her  sister. 

She  returned  to  her  father's  quarters  quite  in  a  glow  of 
revived  hope  and  enthusiasm.  She  visited  Mrs.  Proctor, 
whom  she  found  strong  and  brave,  and  for  the  last  two  or 
three  days  ere  they  departed  with  the  advance,  she  be 
came  a  source  of  courage  and  cheerfulness,  of  hope,  to 
the  many  whom  she  met.  The  effect  upon  herself  was 
inevitably  to  restore  to  her  own  heart  and  spirit,  not  their 
old  enthusiasms,  their  old  illusions,  but  their  old  poise, 
firmness,  strength,  purpose,  and  much  of  the  hope,  the 
devotion,  of  the  spring,  when  they  sailed  to  the  conquest 
of  Camp  Meigs,  now  so  long  ago. 

Cheerily  covering  from  her  eyes  the  ruin  about  her,  she 
took  her  seat  with  Anita  in  the  carriage,  with  one  of  Mrs. 
Proctor's  children,  and  started  on  the  journey  for  the 
Thames.  Her  father  had  become  a  member  of  the  gen- 


Flight.  255 

eral's  staff  for  the  present,  and  the  daughters,  a  part  of  Mrs. 
Proctor's  family,  for  the  time.  These  young  women,  ex 
ceptionally  endowed,  yet  differing  in  gifts  and  accom 
plishments,  as  in  race,  their  lives  and  fates  involved  in  the 
great  problem  of  the  nations,  rode  almost  gayly  forth  to 
the  approaching  solution  of  them,  in  the  fiery  alembic  of 
battle.  The  sky  was  bright,  the  sun  effulgent,  the  air  rich 
with  the  sensuousness  of  ripening  autumn. 

They  gave  themselves  to  the  influences  of  the  day,  not 
dreaming  of  the  forms  crystallizing  just  beyond  their 
horizon,  awaiting  their  approach. 

Let  us  in  advance  see  something  of  the  scenes  of  the 
final  catastrophies  of  our  history.  The  mouth  of  the 
Thames  is  thirty  miles  due  east  from  Detroit,  the  river 
comes  from  an  easterly  direction,  emptying  into  Lake  St. 
Clair.  In  its  lower  course  it  is  a  deep,  sinuous,  sluggish 
stream,  then  navigable  for  light  draft  vessels,  seventy  or 
eighty  miles.  In  1813  the  easternmost  settlement  was 
the  Indian  Moravian  town,  of  quite  an  hundred  dwellings, 
standing  pleasantly  on  an  eminence  on  the  north  bank,  a 
place  to  be  often  mentioned.  It  was  about  thirty-two  or 
thirty-three  miles  from  the  mouth  of  the  Thames.  Two 
or  three  points  along  the  river  are  to  be  borne  in  mind. 
One  is  Dalson's,  sixteen  miles  from  Lake  St.  Clair,  on  the 
north  side,  the  first  eminence  that  breaks  the  level,  and 
near  the  present  town  of  Chatham. 

There  Dalson  had  made  a  small  opening,  and  four 
miles  below  Dalson's,  on  the  south  side,  was  Drake's  farm. 
At  this  point  the  character  of  the  stream  changes  from  a 
broad,  sluggish  river  to  one  much  narrower,  more  rapid, 
and  walled  in  by  higher  banks ;  and  the  face  of  the 
country  assumes  an  undulating  form.  Ascending  from 
Dalson's,  four  miles  on  the  north  bank  was  Bowies'  farm. 


256  The  Torys  Daughter. 

Still  above,  and  at  the  foot  of  the  first  rapids,  was  a  creek 
entering  from  the  south,  on  which  was  Arnold's  mill. 
Eleven  miles  further  takes  us  to  a  point  on  the  north 
bank,  two  or  three  miles  from  the  Moravian  town,  of 
great  importance  in  this  narrative. 

Returning  to  the  mouth  of  the  river,  it  may  be  said 
that  ten  or  twelve  miles  of  its  lower  course  was  through  a 
rich  alluvion  formed  by  the  Thames  and  tributaries,  won 
from  Lake  St.  Clair,  of  the  usual  character  of  such  depos 
its  ;  and  for  several  miles,  the  surface  was  a  treeless 
prairie. 

With  the  rise  of  the  surface  to  the  older  formation, 
began  one  of  the  noblest  forests  of  the  continent,  consist 
ing  largely  of  the  now  nearly  extinct  black  walnut,  then  in 
its  perfection,  and  nowhere,  save  exceptionally,  did  the 
trees  attain  such  size  and  height  as  here.  Very  many 
were  from  four  to  six  feet  in  diameter,  at  the  usual  height 
of  being  cut  to  fell,  and  it  was  not  remarkable  to  find  one 
springing  round  and  straight,  90,  100  and  120  feet,  to  the 
lower  limbs.  Grand  columns,  and  crowned  with  noble 
tops,  huge  branches,  reaching  symmetrically  out,  like  those 
of  the  finest  elms,  or  the  largest  and  most  perfect  hickory. 
Trees  of  this  species  and  size  command  breadth  of  space. 
They  cannot  grow  near  each  other,  as  do  the  largest  pines 
and  some  other  conifers,  though,  like  the  pine,  little  or 
nothing  grows  beneath  their  shade,  save  springing  chil 
dren  of  their  own  planting,  while  the  ground  is  usually 
firm.  After  a  breadth  of  this  timber  other  varieties  of 
the  trees  of  the  temperate  zone  appear,  and  the  walnut  is 
the  exception. 

It  may  be  remembered  that  from  the  Moravian  town 
eastward  to  Burlington  Heights,  a  distance  of  170  miles, 
the  country  was  covered  by  the  primitive  forest. 


Flight,  257 

Riding  forth,  Edith  was  at  the  first  little  inclined  to 
talk.  Anita  usually  took  her  cue,  if  not  her  mood,  from 
her,  and  left  her  to  her  own  thoughts.  Edith's,  as  often 
in  these  later  days,  turned  to  her  sister  with  growing  con 
cern. 

She  had  fancied,  as  older  persons  have,  that  an  Indian 
girl,  by  education  and  training,  might  become  in  a  few 
years  much  like  herself.  She  was  wholly  unaware  of  the 
indestructibility  of  human  nature,  and  that  radical  changes 
require  generations  under  favoring  conditions. 

She  had  planned  a  joint  career  :  their  mission  would  be 
the  civilization  and  education  of  some  of  the  finer  and 
nobler  natives.  The  scheme  included  nothing  of  the  ten- 
derest  and  most  intimate  relations  with  the  other  sex — 
marriage — such  an  alternative  had  never  been  presented 
to  her  mind  save  with  Home,  and  that  she  ever  turned 
from.  Her  recent  experience  had  given  her  more  accu 
rate  ideas  of  herself,  and  sharpened  her  thoughts  and 
observations  of  the  nature  and  possibilities  of  Anita. 
She  was  coming  to  appreciate  her  for  what  she  was,  and 
would  remain, — a  true  daughter  of  the  wood  and  wild 
plains,  of  forest  stream  and  lonely  lake,  the  child  of  un 
known  centuries  of  wandering  barbarism.  Her  future  was 
a  matter  of  the  greatest  anxiety,  daily  more  pressing. 
Even  before  the  war  she  had  many  times  noticed  a  wistful 
look  in  the  child's  eyes,  token  of  virgin  longings  for  bar 
barian  life. 

With  the  arming  of  the  painted  warriors  mid  the  women 
and  papooses,  there  was  a  re-awakening  of  the  girl's  un 
tamable  nature.  She  greatly  enjoyed  the  adventure,  and 
wild  life,  at  Camp  Meigs ;  and  now  it  was  plain  to  Edith, 
that  the  child's  only  regrets  at  going  upon  this  new  quest, 
were  wholly  on  her  sister's  account.  She  naively  admit- 
17 


258  The  Torys  Daughter. 

ted  she  preferred  to  be  a  captive  with  her  sister  to  the 
Americans,  where  the  captivity  would  not  be  so  very  irk 
some. 

"  And  where  the  gallant  and  handsome  Red- Wing 
might  swoop  down  and  carry  you  off.  The  '  Young 
Chief '  as  you  call  him,  if  he  ever  wishes  as  you  dream, 
would  never  think  of  a  bride  in  the  midst  of  a  campaign. 
My  little  sister,  taller  than  I  am,  may  as  well  turn  her 
fancy  to  her  own  affairs.  I  admit  I  am  a  little  anxious 
about  her,  with  all  these  brave  young  chiefs  caracolling 
round  on  their  gayly  pranked  ponies,"  was  the  substance 
of  Edith's  speech  in  reply. 

"  Anita  can  wait.  Indian  girl  see  Americans  come,  all 
his  horsemen ;  Anita  heard  of  them  ;  they  surround  the 
soldiers,  take  them  all,  war  over  them.  It  won't  be  long. 
Young  chief  come  then,"  looking  weirdly  from  the 
sides  of  her  eyes,  as  at  a  vision  beyond  the  horizon. 

"  Anita !  What  are  you  saying  ?  "  half  laughing,  yet  a 
little  disturbed. 

"  Won't  be  long.  Indian  girl  wait ;  "  laughing  at  the 
effect  of  her  conceit  on  Edith. 

"  Child,  you  are  a  half  witch.  Please  don't  try  that  on 
me  now." 

Then  the  child  laughed  in  her  old  happy  way,  leaning 
forward  to  adjust  something,  and  bringing  into  relief  the 
rounding  lines  of  her  graceful  form.  Oh,  dear,  what 
hope  of  reclaiming  the  average  Indian,  if  this  gifted 
daughter  of  a  great  and  gifted  family,  was  permitted  to 
relapse.  Was  it  a  question  of  permitting  ?  She  re 
membered  how  fearlessly  and  how  perfectly  Anita  rode 
and  managed  a  spirited  horse  in  the  south  side  woods. 
She  felt  a  sad  certainty  that  she  was  equal  to  mounting 
another,  and  riding  away  with  her  people,  if  her  heart 


Flight.  259 

was  with  a  chosen  one.  What  if  one  should  ask  her  to 
ride  away  with  him  ?  She  left  it  unanswered. 

Edith  had  escaped  from  the  seat  of  many  months  of 
painful  anxieties,  trials  and  labors,  to  this  wide  country, 
with  a  sense  of  relief.  She  threw  from  her  the  past,  she 
would  not  scan  the  possible  future,  she  dwelt  upon  her 
sister — a  very  sister  to  be  loved,  cherished,  yet  still  to  half 
fear,  as  full  of  wild  strength  and  power,  with  the  nature 
and  will  to  devote  herself  with  the  touching  unreserve  of 
a  woman.  She  finally  cast  this  from  her  thought. 

Along  that  belt  of  the  continent  the  season  had  reached 
its  balancing  pause,  when  ripest  summer  was  changing  to 
deepening  autumn,  preceding  decay,  the  stripping  of  the 
forests  of  foliage  and  fruit.  The  nights  were  frosty,  the 
days  full  of  softened  loveliness  ere  the  faint  reflex  of 
summer  called  the  "  Indian  Summer "  was  reached. 
There  was  nothing  now  for  her  hands  to  do,  nothing  for 
her  active  feet.  Her  mind  was  weary  of  her  past.  She 
would  be  a  spectator  of  what  might  occur.  She  could 
not  be  an  actor.  She  would  be  in  the  open  outdoor, 
as  dear  to  her  as  to  Anita,  in  the  autumn  woods,  with 
their  color  and  fragrance. 

The  first  day's  moderate  journey  was  restful  to  mind 
and  body  ;  it  carried  them  nearly  to  Lake  St.  Clair.  The 
second  to  Dalson's ;  the  third  to  the  Moravian  town, 
where  preparations  were  made  for  their  party,  and  where 
they  would  remain  till  the  army  approached.  Easterly 
from  the  lake,  they  took  the  road  on  the  north  bank  of 
the  Thames,  up  which  the  gunboats  and  light  craft  had 
transported  the  guns  and  material,  stores,  and  heavy 
baggage,  carrying  many  of  the  inhabitants,  fleeing  the 
dreaded  Americans  and  their  savage  allies.  Very  leis 
urely  this  was  performed.  For  obvious  reasons  this  north 


260  The   Torys  Daughter. 

bank  would  be  the  route  of  the  retiring  army.  It  was 
not  called  retreat,  certainly  not  an  escape.  The  officers 
euphuistically  spoke  of  it  as  falling  back  to  a  stronger 
position  on  the  Thames,  nearer  their  base,  really  an  ad 
vance  upon  their  supplies. 

Turning  eastward  along  the  low  banked  river,  across 
the  rich  prairie,  they  came  to  the  scattering  walnuts, 
immense  trunks,  wide  tops,  not  so  tall  as  forest  trees 
in  the  open,  with  no  struggle  for  air  and  light,  have  less 
height.  Then  clumps  and  detached  groves,  then  the 
continuous  forest.  The  sight  of  this  succession — proces 
sion — of  grand  trees,  any  one  of  many  of  which  would  be 
a  wonder  in  a  wood  of  ordinary  trees,  filled  Edith,  who 
was  a  tree  worshipper,  with  an  ecstasy  of  amazement. 
Tall,  grand,  huge  columns,  supporting  a  dome  of  far  up 
arches  of  foliage,  of  brown  and  golden  tints,  with  solitary 
huge  nuts  of  yellow  tinted  green,  lying  here  and  there 
on  the  clean,  bare  ground — mile  upon  mile  of  these,  with 
here  and  there  a  maple,  a  smooth  barked  beech,  a  huge 
tulip  tree,  or  a  competing  hickory. 

"  It  reminds  you  of  the  lovely  woods  on  the  Black 
River,  of  two  years  ago,"  said  the  equally  pleased 
Anita. 

"  It  is  impossible  to  forget  that  time,  and  those  beauti 
ful  woods.  These  do  not  remind  me  of  them,  nor  this 
country  and  river,  though  both  improve.  The  sunshine 
and  air  are  like  that  time,  and  I  like  the  fragrance  of  these 
ripe  walnut  leaves." 

"  And,  Edith,  may  I  tell  you  what  I  think — as  you  cast 
your  eyes  up  these  big  tall  trees,  that  there  were  then 
eyes  that  went  up  with  yours  just  a  little  way,  and  in 
stantly  came  down  to  your  face — they  couldn't  help  it — 
and  rested  there,  till  yours  came  down  and  looked  into 


Flight.  261 

them.  Oh,  I  felt  the  charm  that  was  working  between 
you  two.  My  sister  dreams  of  the  Black  River ;  "  turn 
ing  away  with  a  decided  little  motion  of  her  head,  as  to 
say—"  Don't  tell1  me." 

"  And  my  sister — does  she  dream  of  Rock  River 
Valley  ? " 

"  My  sister  knows  very  well  one  cannot  dream  of  what 
one  Iras  never  seen,"  was  the  naive  answer. 

Then  they  talked  of  the  possible  long,  long  journey — 
Anita  shook  her  head  at  the  idea,  entertaining  it  only  con 
versationally — the  journey  through  the  interminable  forest. 
It  was  happiness  to  be  in  the  woods.  No  thing  discon 
nected  with  the  charm  of  young  hearts  was  such  a  pleas 
ant  theme  for  talk,  and  she  indulged  it  to  any  extent; 
She  said,  Tecumseh,  Tecumapease,  Black-Hawk,  Red- 
Wing,  would  never  go  beyond  Moravian  town,  and  Edith 
saw  her  heart  was  with  them.  Both  girls,  as  much  as 
they  loved  a  journey  through  a  forest,  secretly  drew  back 
from  this.  Each  may  have  been  conscious  of  the 
reason. 

Edith's  spirit  was  alway  under  the  influence  of  a  pro 
found  religious  sentiment,  which  never  left  her  in  dark 
ness  uncheered,  nor  in  light  and  joy  permitted  her  ex 
ultant  spirit  to  forget  the  spring  and  source  of  happiness. 
Alike  in  depression  and  exaltation  her  heart  turned  in 
humility  for  light  and  strength,  or  in  gratitude  and  thank 
fulness.  She  had  escaped  the  gloomy  clouds  and  darken 
ing  storm.  She  was  in  the  lovely  woods.  Her  spirit 
was  in  the  sunshine ;  to  her  in  an  unaccountable  way,  it 
would  extend  its  wings  and  soar  exultantly ;  the  sun 
would  have  been  too  radiant,  too  joyous,  streaming 
through  the  stained  woods,  but  for  this  restraining  pres- 


262  The   Tory's  Daughter. 

ence,  which  brooded  in  sweet  serenity  over  her,  filling 
her  heart  with  trust  and  worship. 

They  reached  Moravian  town  on  one  of  the  last  days 
of  September ;  a  small  neat  dwelling  was  assigned  to  the 
girls  and  a  maid,  with  one  or  two  natives  as  attendants, 
only  a  step  from  a  larger,  selected  as  the  temporary  resi 
dence  of  Mrs.  Proctor,  her  children,  nurses,  and  servants. 
The  village  was  a  lovely  place,  surrounded  by  cultivated 
fields,  walled  in  by  the  not  remote  forest,  with  the 
Thames,  here  a  beautiful  river,  deep,  with  a  considerable 
current,  flowing  between  high  banks  on  its  southern 
side. 

Here  Edith  was  to  have  some  days  of  serene,  restful, 
religious  calm,  a  renewal  of  strength,  courage,  power  of 
endurance.  Four  or  five  days,  then  alarm,  battle,  blood, 
loss  of  all,  the  seeming  end  of  all. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

PARTING. 

FOR  two  or  three  days  General  Proctor's  arrival  had 
been  expected,  anxiously  looked  for  by  wife  and 
children.  Toward  the  evening  of  the  4th  of  October,  he 
drove  into  the  village  with  a  single  aid,  young  McLain, 
a  Canadian,  attended  by  an  orderly,  and  they  flew  to 
embrace  him.  He  came  for  a  day's  rest,  the  inspiration 
of  their  presence,  love,  and  religious  trust.  The  strong, 
calm  wife  saw  in  the  worn  face,  the  weary  look,  the  fret 
and  chafe  of  a  spirit  easily  irritated  and  put  from  its 
poise.  Strong,  confident,  when  borne  on  by  the  tide  of 
success,  its  ebb  left  him  helplessly  aground.  His  nature 
was  ignoble,  not  cruel,  not  wholly  cowardly.  When 
Elliott  challenged  him  for  what  passed  between  them  at 
the  council  of  war,  ere  he  abandoned  the  siege  of  Camp 
Meigs,  he  promptly  accepted,  and  it  was  only  by  the 
united  efforts  of  his  officers  that  a  meeting  was  prevented. 
He  was  now  simply  in  a  position  to  which  he  was 
unequal.  Had  he  been,  the  position  might  not  have 
been  precipitated.  His  wife  had  long  since  seen  his 
defects  of  nature  and  character.  As  they  appeared,  she 
bravely  faced  them,  and  with  strength,  tact,  and  prudence, 
did  much  to  hide  them,  and  save  him  from  the  mischiefs 
they  might  cause,  giving  him  of  her  higher  nature. 
Much  she  had  done.  She  received  him  now  almost  a 

263 


264  The    Torys  Daughter. 

ruin.  After  caresses  by  his  children,  whom  he  rudely 
pushed  aside,  she  withdrew  him  to  herself  for  communion. 
The  unexpected — that  baffling  demon  of  human  calcu 
lation — always  ambushing  the  way  of  mortals,  had  leaped 
upon  and  overwhelmed  him. 

He  had  not  expected  to  be  pursued.  Who  could  have 
supposed  an  enemy  destitute  of  means  of  transportation 
would  try  to  follow  him  by  land  ?  Had  any  other  general 
attempted  pursuit  he  would  have  made  his  approach  by 
water.  This  he  could  have  eluded,  or  at  the  true  point 
turn  upon  and  crush.  He  was  followed  by  land  and 
water.  Seemingly  the  entire  combined  fleet  and  army 
of  the  enemy  were  hard  after  him.  He  had  that  very 
morning  turned  at  bay,  posted  Tecumseh  to  hold  him  in 
check.  The  chief  had  done  that  in  a  half-hearted  way. 
A  battle  might  be  avoided.  He  might  be  compelled  to 
fight  the  next  day.  He  would  soon  know.  His  soldiers 
were  already  worn  and  exhausted  with  their  packs  and 
heavy  loads---on  half  rations.  The  enemy,  light  and  free 
marched  two  miles  to  their  one.  Who  could  have 
expected  such  energy  ?  What  had  the  Americans  to  hope 
for,  by  rushing  after  him,  away  from  their  base,  into 
those  interminable  wilds  ?  So  he  ran  on,  enlarging, 
repeating,  reiterating,  weakly  and  querulously  railing  at 
fortune,  at  the  unfortunate  Barclay,  the  untowardness  of 
happenings  he  did  nothing  to  prevent,  and  the  enterprise 
of  an  enemy  he  affected  to  despise. 

Instead  of  treating  him  with  the  contempt  he  deserved 
the  large  souled  woman  drew  his  unheroic  head  to  her 
own  heroic  bosom,  soothed  his  chafed  spirit,  fed  the 
shrivelled  sources  of  courage,  and  awoke  something  of 
the  dogged  pluck  seldom  absent  from  the  least  favored 
native  of  the  island  of  his  birth. 


Parting.  265 

At  a  little  supper  the  general  met  Edith  and  Anita. 
The  manner  of  Miss  Grayson  had  greatly  changed  since 
she  met  him  two  hours  before.  The  lovely,  pensive 
nun-like  maiden  was  now  the  aroused,  high-spirited,  heroic 
woman,  erect,  with  flashing  eyes  and  firm  aspect.  A 
woman  to  inspire  men  to  heroic  endeavor — lead  them,  if 
need  be.  Anita's  face  and  eyes  had  the  half  wild,  eager 
flush  of  expectant  battle.  An  hour  with  those  three 
women  and  Proctor  was  a  hero.  Then  he  retired  for 
greatly  needed  rest.  A  little  past  midnight  came  another 
aid  with  a  guard.  He  brought  a  summons  to  battle. 

Colonel  Warburton  had  set  the  soldiers  in  array,  face 
to  the  foe,  a  short  three  miles  below,  and  General  Tecum- 
seh  had  posted  his  warriors.  They  awaited  the  general 
day,  and  the  enemy. 

Edith  caught  the  word  and  arose,  strong,  brave  and 
confident,  as  did  Mrs.  Proctor.  She  would  let  the 
children  sleep.  It  was  best  for  the  father.  To  part 
with  them  on  the  eve  of  battle  might  shake  his  nerves ;  a 
little  time  was  required  to  get  his  carriage  ready. 

"  By  George  ! "  he  said,  looking  into  the  eyes  of  the 
firm,  calm  Edith,  glowing  with  her  awakened  spirit.  "  I 
wish  Warburton,  and  Home,  and  all  the  boys  were  here, 
to  light  up  from  your  eyes ;  you  have  spirit  enough  for  a 
dozen." 

"  You  don't  need  it,  General,"  she  said,  with  a  glance 
at  the  noble  wife.  "  Take  my  spirit  for  the  soldiers,  who 
are  to  stand  in  the  line,  receive  and  give  the  wounds." 
Her  voice  was  low,  but  it  had  the  timbre  of  battle. 

"  By  George,  I  will !     They  shall  hear  those  words." 

Then  he  was  called,  and  went  out  without  leave-taking. 
The  air  had  changed,  was  chill  and  raw,  with  a  north 
wind  soughing  through  the  trees.  He  emerged  into  the 


266  The  Torys  Daughter. 

black,  unbroken  night,  calm  and  brave.  The  chill  wind 
smote  him  as  from  an  open  tomb.  He  looked  up  for  the 
calm,  assuring  stars  in  vain.  The  sky  was  dark.  He 
was  one  to  be  moved  by  things  from  without.  A  chill 
which  he  could  not  resist,  ran  through  his  veins  ;  a  rigor 
laid  its  hand  on  his  spirit.  His  aid  there  awaited  him. 

Anita  had  meantime  approached  the  young  officer, 
well  known  to  her.  She  placed  a  small  parcel  in  his 
hand,  and  whispered  : 

"Give  this  to  Red- Wing;  say — Anita,"  and  vanished. 
It  contained  the  mate  of  the  gift  from  Dudley. 

The  two  officers  entered  the  carriage  and  were  driven 
away,  followed  by  the  orderly,  leading  the  general's 
favorite  charger,  which  had  been  for  some  days  at  the 
Indian  village. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 
ANITA'S  GIFT. 

THE  instances  of  record  are  rare  where  an  army  with 
time  to  start  and  means  of  removal,  was  brought 
unwillingly  to  battle  by  an  enemy  pursuing  on  the  line 
of  retreat.  Proctor  had  this  in  mind.  His  ill  star 
ordered  his  case  to  be  an  exception  to  the  rule. 

He  had  seven  to  eight  hundred  well  trained  soldiers, 
what  there  was  left  of  the  militia,  and  a  small  body  of 
well  mounted  provincial  cavalry,  and  he  had  at  least  a 
thousand  horses. 

Tecumseh  commanded  about  fifteen  hundred  warriors, 
the  best  trained,  the  flower  of  more  than  twice  that 
number  who  followed  the  British  standard  in  July  before. 
These  in  Indian  warfare  were  fairly  a  match  for  two 
thousand  soldiers. 

Whoever  would  now  attempt  a  clear  detailed  narrative 
of  the  once  famous  retreat  of  Proctor,  and  pursuit  by 
Harrison,  will  be  troubled  to  find  the  means ;  not  from 
scarcity  of  material  so  much  as  from  the  contrariety  of 
statement. 

All  the  persons  named  in  my  opening  chapters,  and 
most  of  those  who  came  into  the  current  of  my  narrative 
later,  were  present  at  the  impending  catastrophe,  or  in 
the  immediate  neighborhood  of  its  scene. 

That  occurred  past  noon  of  the  5th  of  October  (not 
267 


268  The  Torys  Daughter. 

early  in  the  morning),  on  the  north  side  of  the  Thames, 
some  three  miles  west  of  Moravian  town,  and  about 
thirteen  east  of  Dalson's.  The  retreat  was  along  the 
north  bank.  The  pursuit  along  the  south  until  near  noon 
of  the  4th. 

At  Drake's  farm  the  American  vessels  and  gunboats, 
commanded  by  Perry,  were  left,  and  he  became  an  aid 
to  General  Harrison.  Above  that  point,  at  Arnold's 
mill,  at  the  foot  of  the  rapids,  the  river  was  fordable  for 
horses,  and  here  Harrison,  with  the  aid  of  Colonel  John 
son's  horses,  crossed  his  army  in  the  forenoon  of  the  4th, 
and  pursued  in  the  direct  track  of  the  enemy. 

We  must  turn  back  and  gather  up  a  few  details  in  the 
order  of  time,  to  place  everything  within  the  easy  grasp 
of  the  reader  who  may  care  to  know. 

Proctor,  as  stated,  had  not  dreamed  of  pursuit  by  land. 
He  made  his  first  considerable  halt  at  Dalson's.  To  this 
point  he  destroyed  no  bridge,  on  either  side  of  the 
Thames,  though  there  were  several,  otherwise  impassable 
tributary  streams. 

At  Dalson's  he  became  aware  of  land  pursuit,  and  sent 
out  parties  to  break  down  the  bridges.  This  action 
advised  his  enemy  that  he  knew  he  was  pursued. 

Tecumseh,  who  understood  the  intrepid  character  of  his 
old  enemy,  Harrison,  expected  this  pursuit,  and  himself 
discovered  it.  With  the  flash  of  battle  in  his  eyes,  he 
sought  Proctor,  to  select  the  ground  and  prepare  for  the 
impending  conflict.  At  last  he  was  to  meet  this  foe  in 
something  like  a  fair  battle  ;  for  nothing  had  he  so  longed 
since  Tippecanoe.  He  reminded  Proctor  of  his  promise 
and  demanded  its  fulfilment.  To  this  the  general  readily 
assented.  They  selected  Gregory's  Creek,  a  little  beyond 
Dalson's,  near  Chatham  ;  an  unfordable  stream,  which  with 


Anitas  Gift.  269 

other  favorable  conditions  was  said  to  be  the  strongest 
position  for  their  force  on  that  side  of  the  river.  Proctor 
was  entirely  satisfied  with  it,  and  he  declared, 

"  Here  will  I  defeat  the  Americans,  or  leave  my  bones 
on  this  ground." 

"  My  father  makes  my  heart  glad,  "  replied  the  chief. 
"When  I  look  at  these  two  streams,  I  see  the  Tippecanoe 
running  into  the  Wabash,"  he  added,  a  little  sadly,  as  the 
past  flashed  back  on  his  mind.* 

Away  he  hurried  to  place  his  warriors  in  array.  Away 
went  Proctor  to  put  his  immediate  command  on  the  march, 
continuing  his  retreat.  Then  he  commenced  the  destruc 
tion  of  the  bridges,  the  burning  and  abandonment  of 
his  vessels,  ordnance,  and  property,  never  taken  from 
Maiden  had  he  expected  pursuit  or  intended  to  fight  a 
pitched  battle. 

He  expected  Tecumseh  would  fight  with  his  old  skill 
and  gallantry,  and  hold  the  enemy  until  he  could  escape 
with  his  soldiers.  The  chief  saw  he  was  betrayed.  He 
would  not  fall  into  this  trap.  He  lost  a  few  warriors, 
drew  skilfully  off,  and  retired  also. 

With  his  angry  chiefs  he  then  sought  Proctor,  and  to  his 
face  denounced  his  treachery  and  cowardice.  Grayson 
was  present.  Walk-in-the-Water  denounced  him  for  his 
speech  in  the  council  at  Maiden  as  a  piece  of  intended 
deception,  and  reminded  him  of  his  promises  on  the 
Huron,  every  one  of  which  had  been  broken.  He 
announced  his  intention  of  going  with  his  warriors  over 
to  the  Americans,  saying  Harrison  had  never  told  them 
lies.  His  personal  following  was  sixty  effective  braves. 

Proctor  called  on  Tecumseh  to  arrest  and  punish  the 
Wyandot.  The  chief  told  him  his  own  conduct  released 

*Drake's  "  Life  of  Tecumseh." 


270  The   Torys  Daughter. 

his  brother  from  all  obligation  to  remain,  and  further 
follow  him  to  disgrace  and  ruin.  He  and  his  warriors 
might  go  in  peace,  and  they  went. 

From  this  interview,  Proctor  pushed  forward  to  meet 
his  family  at  Moravian  Town,  as  related,  leaving  Warbur- 
ton  in  command. 

It  is  asserted  by  Canadians  and  Englishmen  that  from 
the  abandoned  position  Warburton  marched  all  night, 
was  met  at  daylight  by  Proctor,  who  halted  the  fatigued 
soldiers,  placed  them  in  array,  and  that  they  fought  early 
in  the  morning,  with  no  food  save  the  scraps  and  crusts 
in  their  haversacks;  and  thus  convicting  their  officers 
of  incompetency,  to  excuse  the  want  of  their  native 
pluck,  shown  by  the  men  of  the  41  st,  during  that  day. 

The  position  of  the  British  and  their  allies  was 
selected  with  skill,  and  the  forces  posted  at  leisure  while 
Harrison  was  miles  away.  At  that  point  the  bank  of  the 
river  is  high ;  the  current  deep  and  rapid.  Parallel  with 
the  bank,  and  three  hundred  yards  distant,  was  the  south 
margin  of  a  cedar  swamp  of  considerable  breadth,  of 
yielding  surface,  much  of  it  under  water  and  extending 
down  the  river  for  two  or  three  miles.  At  200  yards 
from  the  river  was  an  intervening  narrow  swamp  of 
considerable  length,  and  thirty  or  forty  yards'  wide,  pas 
sable,  but  obstructing,  which  ran  to  a  point  eastward. 
Here  the  regulars  were  drawn  up  in  two  lines,  with 
several  yards  interval,  and  in  open  order,  the  left  resting 
on  the  river,  their  right  on  the  large  swamp.  The 
artillery  was  on  the  left,  to  sweep  the  river  road. 
The  cavalry  were  posted  in  the  rear.  The  line  crossed  the 
lower  end  of  the  narrow  swamp,  and  was  interrupted  by  it, 
no  men  standing  in  it.  The  ground  otherwise,  and  for 
miles  along  the  river,  was  covered  with  the  open  wood 


Anitas  Gift.  271 

described,  free  from  underbrush  save  in  the  smaller 
swamp,  and  with  nothing  to  embarrass  the  enemy's  ap 
proach.  Though  there  was  ample  time  and  implements 
at  hand,  no  abatis,  none  of  the  means  of  defence  re 
sorted  to  on  both  sides  by  infantry,  in  our  later  war, 
seem  to  have  occurred  to  the  British,  though  having  many 
years  experience  in  the  American  forests. 

Tecumseh  posted  his  warriors  along  the  margin  of  the 
swamp,  skilfully  for  such  troops,  forming  a  slightly 
obtuse  angle  with  the  British  right,  and  his  own  left. 
This  position  would  effectively  protect  the  right  of  the 
regulars,  if  attacked,  as  it  must  be,  by  the  enemy.  He 
had  in  his  line  about  fifteen  hundred  warriors.  His  post 
was  on  his  own  left,  where  the  fiercest  struggle  would 
be.  He  knew  Proctor  was  absent,  did  not  expect  or  care 
for  his  presence. 

Warburton  knew  a  battle  was  inevitable.  He  sought 
with  the  concurrence  of  the  chief,  the  best  ground ;  when 
he  found  it,  he  made  his  dispositions,  sent  for  his 
general,  and  awaited  the  enemy's  advance.  He  con 
structed  no  defensive  works,  placed  no  skirmish  line  in 
advance,  no  picket  or  outpost  of  any  kind.  He  seems 
to  have  used  no  means  to  detect  his  enemy's  approach. 
Proctor  on  his  arrival  made  no  change.  His  station  was 
in  the  rear  of  the  point  of  the  small  swamp  mentioned. 

Learning  the  arrival  of  General  Proctor,  Tecumseh, 
the  magnanimous  9hief,  waited  on  him,  and  greeted 
him  in  his  grave  way,  cordially.  His  own  presence,  full 
of  high  courage,  confidence,  and  the  will  and  purpose  to 
conquer,  was  a  tonic  to  the  general  and  his  officers ; 
dignified,  yet  alert,  every  fibre  showing  him  a  great 
leader,  on  the  eve  of  battle.  Their  interview  was  brief 


272  The   Torys  Daughter. 

and  satisfactory.  Proctor  told  the  chief  he  was  there  to 
keep  his  word  of  yesterday. 

"  My  brother  sees  my  soldiers  with  their  faces  toward 
the  Americans,"  he  added.  "  I  stand  or  fall  here  with 
them.  When  my  brother  hears  the  voices  of  my  great 
guns,  that  will  tell  him  to  attack." 

"  My  brother's  words  are  good.  They  make  my  heart 
glad,"  replied  the  chief,  and  he  returned  to  his  own 
troops. 

Much  was  expected  from  this  powerful  attack  of  Te- 
cumseh  upon  the  enemy's  left  flank.  On  his  return  he 
passed  through  the  British  right,  was  recognized  and 
cheered  by  the  soldiers,  their  only  demonstration  of  this 
kind  heard  that  day. 

McLain  accompanied  him  to  execute  the  mission  of 
Anita.  In  a  group  of  youths,  one  of  whom  was  Tecum- 
seh's  son,  at  a  look  of  the  chief,  a  tall,  slender,  handsome 
young  chief  arrayed  in  full  war  colors,  otherwise  reduced 
to  battle  costume,  bearing  the  native  insignia  of  com 
mand,  stepped  forward.  As  he  approached,  Tecumseh 
said  :  "  Red-Wing,"  with  a  gesture  toward  the  officer, 
and  proceeded  on  his  way  down  his  line. 

McLain  had  seldom  seen  so  fine  a  specimen  of  the 
young  brave  as  he  who  now  advanced  to  meet  him.  He 
produced  the  little  parcel  of  pink  silk  and  extended  it  to 
the  chief,  with  the  single  word — "  Ah-ni-tah,"  in  the 
native  accent. 

The  youth's  eyes  flashed  with  pleasure.  He  re 
ceived  it  eagerly,  opened  the  envelope,  took  from  it  the 
quaintly  wrought  trinket,  gazed  at  it  with  a  proud  and 
happy  smile,  rather  grim  under  his  war-paint.  He 
removed  a  small  jewel  from  one  of  his  ears,  and  replaced 
it  with  the  maiden's  gift.  The  other  he  gave  the  officer, 


Anitas  Gift.  273 

speaking  softly  the  very  magic  name  "  Ah-ni-tah."  In 
the  youth's  presence  McLain  enveloped  it  carefully  in 
paper,  deposited  it  in  a  small  pocket-book,  with  an 
assuring  motion  of  the  head  that  it  should  be  faithfully 
delivered.  Red-Wing  noted  everything  approvingly, 
uttering  soft  gutterals,  which  the  envoy  translated — 
"good-good."  The  chief  then  turned  back,  covering 
Anita's  gift  tenderly  with  his  hand,  moving  away  from 
his  observing  companions,  as  if  it  was  too  precious  and 
sacred  for  their  profaning  eyes. 

Tecumseh  went  down  his  line,  giving  last  orders,  in 
structions,  encouragements,  and  exhortations.  His  saga 
cious  mind  had  pretty  accurately  grasped  the  ultimate 
fortune  of  his  people,  whatever  might  be  the  result  of 
the  impending  battle.  On  his  return  to  his  post  he 
called  his  principal  chiefs  around  him,  and  addressed 
them  as  follows  : 

"  Brother  warriors  !  We  are  about  to  enter  into  a  battle 
from  which  I  shall  never  come  out.  My  body  will 
remain  on  the  battle-field." 

He  then  unbuckled  his  sword,  placed  it  in  the  hands 
of  one  he  greatly  trusted,  and  said  :  "  When  my  son  be 
comes  a  noted  warrior,  and  able  to  wield  it,  give  him 
this  sword."  He  then  laid  aside  his  general's  coat  and 
insignia  of  army  rank,  leaving  himself  standing  in  simple 
hunting  shirt,  leggings  and  moccasins,  without  paint  or 
ornament.  In  addition  to  his  native  weapons,  rifle,  toma 
hawk  and  knife,  he  wore  in  a  belt  a  brace  of  beautifully 
mounted  pistols,  of  that  time.  Thus  dressed  and 
armed,  he  assumed  his  place  a  little  in  advance  of  his 
line,  to  await  the  signal  gun,  which  was  never  fired.* 

»  Drake's  "Life  of  Tecumseh." 
18 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

THE   ONSET. 

HARRISON  did  not  linger  at  Maiden.  He  had 
little  hope  of  overtaking  Proctor.  His  thorough 
demolition  of  property  showed  that  he  did  not  intend 
to  fight  for  a  chance  of  resuming  possession  of  the  dis 
mantled  position.  He  sent  forward  the  ships  and  light 
draft  vessels,  left  General  McArthur  and  a  strong  force 
at  Detroit,  and  another  general  at  Sandwich,  with  a  force. 
Here  he  learned  that  Proctor  had  halted  at  Dalson's,  and 
taking  about  3500  of  all  arms,  he  pushed  hard  after  him. 
Notwithstanding  Armstrong  would  raise  a  force  of 
regulars  exclusively,  with  the  exception  of  150  of  that 
branch  of  the  service,  his  troops  v/ere  militia,  with  the 
training  received  at  home. 

It  included  Colonel  R.  M.  Johnson's  famous  regiment 
of  mounted  infantry,  1200  strong  ;  200  were  called  spies, 
armed  with  rifles,  always  in  advance.  The  rest  had  rifles 
or  muskets,  a  weapon  as  effective  for  the  average  man  on 
horseback.  Each  man  owned  the  horse  he  rode.  They 
had  been  in  service  a  year  or  more,  and  man  and  horse 
were  trained  to  effective  service  in  the  woods  and  wild 
forays  of  the  border.  The  arrival  of  this  body  at  Detroit 
enabled  Harrison  to  secure  mounts  for  his  field  officers. 
He  had  with  him  also  the  famous  Black-Hoof,  the  great 
est  of  the  Wyandots,  who  in  his  youth  fought  Braddock, 
as  he  had  since  everywhere  fought  the  Americans,  until 

274 


The  Onset.  275 

now.  Black-Hoof  had  under  him  150  Wyandots  and 
Seneca  warriors  at  Sandwich.  Harrison  stripped  his 
soldiers  to  the  lightest  marching  form,  their  arms  and 
ammunition,  and  they  made  twenty-seven  miles  the  first 
day  ;  at  Baptist  Creek,  near  the  mouth  of  the  Thames,  a 
deep,  troublesome  stream,  crossed  by  Proctor,  he  found 
the  bridge  untouched,  a  most  encouraging  sign  of  the 
confidence  and  carelessness  of  the  British  officers.  He 
left  a  strong  guard  there.  He  turned  up  the  south  side 
of  the  river  for  the  best  of  reasons. 

At  Dalson's  he  knew  he  should  overtake  Proctor.  He 
knew  very  soon  also  that  the  Englishmen  knew  of  his 
pursuit.  He  pushed  Johnson  forward  with  a  party  to 
secure  the  bridges.  Tecumseh's  stand  did  not  delay  him 
long.  At  Chatham  he  had  an  interview  with  Walk-in- 
the-Water,  who  wanted  to  join  him.  He  curtly  told  him 
to  go  back  to  Detroit  and  in  the  meantime  keep  clear 
of  his  army. 

The  chief  found  his  old  friend  Black-Hoof  more  sym 
pathetic.  Their  warriors  were  brothers,  cousins,  friends, 
and  he  received  him  and  a  third  or  so  of  his  band,  which 
for  the  clay  did  not  come  to  Harrison's  or  Dudley's  notice. 

The  Americans  came  upon  abandoned  vessels,  burning 
stores  and  bridges,  which  he  had  to  fight  for,  from  this 
point.  The  distance  was  not  great,  nor  the  time  long. 
He  left  his  own  vessels  at  Drake's,  and  crossed  the  river 
at  Arnold's,  as  stated,  a  little  before  noon  of  this,  the  5th 
day  of  October.  After  crossing,  they  came  upon  the  last 
bivouac  of  the  enemy,  where  their  fires  were  still  burning. 

Johnson  dashed  forward  and  captured  a  wagoner  who 
told  him  the  British  army  in  line  of  battle,  awaited  them 
a  half  mile  in  advance. 

At  last,  the  account  of  blood  between  Kentucky  and 


276  The   Torys  Daughter. 

Proctor  for  Frenchtown,  and  Fort  Miami,  would  be 
adjusted.  The  American  made  a  rapid  disposition  of 
his  force  for  immediate  action.  A  selected  body  of 
infantry  were  to  advance,  and  charge  the  British  line, 
supported  by  Johnson's  mounted  men,  which  still  held 
the  advance.  The  regulars,  120  strong,  were  to  carry  the 
artillery.  Black-Hoof's  Indians  were  to  steal  up  under 
the  bank  of  the  river,  gain  the  British  rear,  raise  the  war- 
whoop  and  attack,  to  create  in  the  minds  of  the  soldiers 
the  impression  that  their  Indians  had  turned  against 
them.  Shelby  and  Desha's  brigades  were  to  be  opposed 
to  Tecumseh.  With  this  plan  the  army  advanced,  John 
son's  mounted  men  still  in  the  lead,  divided  in  two  columns, 
the  right  under  Colonel  R.  M.  Johnson's  brother,  Lieu 
tenant-Colonel  James  Johnson,  and  the  left  led  by  the 
colonel.  The  movement  was  along  the  road  near  the 
bank. 

Meantime  Carter,  who  had  been  ordered  by  Dudley  to 
scout  ahead,  discovered  not  only  the  position  of  the  British, 
but  their  formation,  the  Indian  line  of  battle,  and  the 
post  of  Tecumseh  in  his  own  line.  On  his  way  back  he 
met  Major  Dudley  and  Major  Wood  of  the  engineers, 
who  had  hurried  forward  to  ascertain  the  exact  position 
of  the  enemy.  He  told  them  everything  they  could  have 
ascertained,  and  they  turned  back  to  inform  the  general. 
Carter  accompanied  them  part  of  the  way,  and  described 
the  small  swamp  in  front  of  Proctor's  line,  and  in  answer 
to  Dudley,  said,  the  ground  otherwise  was  open  and  free 
from  fallen  timber  and  underbrush.  Dudley  said  the 
way  to  deal  with  the  British  was  to  send  Johnson  to  ride 
through  and  over  them.  That  regulars  in  this  order, 
accustomed  to  touch  at  the  shoulders,  would  present  but 
a  feeble  resistance.  Wood  was  so  impressed  that  he  said 


The  Onset.  277 

he  should  bring  it  to  General  Harrison's  notice,  which  he 
did  on  the  conclusion  of  their  report. 

"  Dudley  says  Johnson's  mounted  men  would  make 
short  work  of  them.  I  confess,  General,  I  am  greatly 
struck  by  it." 

"  Is  that  your  idea,  Major?"  asked  Harrison  of  Dudley. 

"  Most  decidedly,  "  said  the  young  officer.  "  When 
he  passes  their  second  line,  he  will  deploy  right  and  left, 
wheel  and  deliver  his  fire." 

The  eyes  of  Harrison  flashed  from  one  to  the  other. 
"It  is  a  novel  idea,"  he  said. 

"  The  position  to  be  assailed  is  novel.  They  will  be 
surprised  and  can  really  offer  no  resistance  if  the  heads 
of  the  column  can  be  held  steady — as  they  certainly  will 
be.  The  guides  are  picked  men,"  was  Dudley's  reply. 

"  I  will  do  it,  Major  Dudley ;  order  Colonel  Johnson 
to  charge  the  enemy  in  his  front,"  he  said  crisply. 

"  I  have  your  permission  to  lead,  or  accompany 
General?" 

"  Go,"  said  the  general. 

Dudley  had  secured  a  fine  mount  from  the  Kentuck- 
ians,  and  was  instantly  in  his  saddle. 

"I  am  not  certain  as  I  should  have  permitted  him  to 
go,"  said  the  general,  reflectively.  "  He  is  in  the  mood 
to  be  reckless,  and  has  been  ever  since  the  Meigs  days." 

"  The  plan  was  his ;  let  him  see  to  its  execution.  No 
man  handles  soldiers  better,"  said  Wood  in  answer. 

"  Reckless !  Good  Lord,  a  man  must  have  his 
chance !  "  said  Perry,  smiling  at  the  idea  of  reckoning 
the  danger. 

None  knew  better  than  the  general  that  the  tug  of  war 
would  be  with  Tecumseh.  His  thought  was  to  first  dis 
pose  of  Proctor  and  his  soldiers  and  then  attack  the 


278  The   Tory's  Daughter. 

Indians.  His  plan  for  the  Indians  was  admirable.  The 
veteran  Shelby,  and  Desha,  were  placed  in  position  to 
engage  and  hold  them,  so  that  Johnson's  flank  would  be 
free.  Then  they  should  be  developed  and  overwhelmed 
in  turn,  by  all  his  force. 

Colonel  Johnson's  mounted  men  stood  as  stated  in  two 
equal  columns.  Lieutenant  Colonel  James  split  his 
column  into  four,  of  two  files  each,  his  spies  in  advance, 
himself  seconded  by  Major  Payne;  the  left  column  under 
Colonel  R.  M.  consisted  of  two,  of  four  files  each,  the 
right  led  by  himself,  the  left  by  Dudley,  each  at  the  head 
of  the  spies. 

On  approaching  the  enemy,  it  was  found  that  Colonel 
James  would  require  quite  all  the  space  between  the 
small  swamp  and  river  to  give  him  the  needed  room  for 
action. 

"  Let  us  charge  the  Indians !  "  called  Colonel  R.  M.  to 
Dudley. 

"Agreed!"  was  the  response.  He  had  already  ex 
plained  to  the  colonel  the  personal  position  of  Tecumseh. 
He  would  still  have  answered  as  he  did,  notwithstanding 
he  graduated  second  of  his  class.  His  general  under 
stood  his  mood  perfectly. 

"We  will  drive  straight  on  Tecumseh,"  called  the 
colonel. 

"  Agreed !  "  answered  back  the  major  again. 

This  was  the  final  crisis.  No  personal  considerations 
could  then  be  taken  account  of.  Tecumseh  must  also 
take  his  chance. 

As  the  head  of  the  colonel's  column  wheeled  to  the 
left — "Look  out!  "  shouted  Carter.  "Look  out,  Major  ! 
'E  can  pass  the  little  swamp.  'E  can't  charge  in't  the 
big  un,  an  git  out  again  !  " 


The   Onset.  279 

If  heard  he  was  unheeded.  The  horses  would  take 
them  speedily  into  battle  anyway.  What  did  a  Ken- 
tuckian  care  for  Indians  in  the  woods  !  The  heads  de 
flected  to  -the  left.  They  passed  the  small  swamp  with 
out  serious  delay,  gained  the  hard  ground  the  other  side. 
The  bugle  sounded  and  away  they  went. 

Colonel  James  had  less  distance  to  go  than  had  his 
brother,  to  the  point  of  impact.  We  will  charge  with 
him. 

Has  the  reader  ever  heard  an  elk,  a  buffalo,  a  wild 
bullock,  leaping  and  plunging  over  hard  ground?  He 
has  certainly  heard  a  horse  run,  and  knows  he  can  be 
heard  at  a  considerable  distance.  Let  him  fancy  twelve 
hundred  of  the  large  bony  Kentucky  horses, — her  lime- 
rock  makes  everything  large  and  bony, — weighing  ten, 
twelve,  or  thirteen  hundred  pounds,  each  bearing  a  man 
averaging  160,  going  at  full  speed  yet  held  in  a  body,  and 
he  may  form  some  conception  of  the  smiting  roar  of  the 
charging  Kentuckians.  A  cavalry  charge  is  effective 
from  mere  weight  and  velocity,  without,  as  with,  arms. 

When  the  heads  of  Colonel  James'  columns  burst  on 
the  eyes  of  the  startled  British, — who  could  then  under 
stand  the  cause  of  the  mighty  uproar,  as  if  it  were  the 
simultaneous  crashing  and  falling  of  the  forest  itse*lf — a 
heavy  volley  greeted  the  advancing  Kentuckians.  The 
leading  horses  recoiled,  an  instant's  wavering  was  over 
come,  and  six  hundred  practised  throats  gave  forth  the 
warwhoop,  and  on  they  plunged  over  the  level  ground, 
among  the  wide  apart  trees,  with  the  sweep  and  roar  of  a 
low  down  storm  cloud  kissing  the  earth  with  thunder. 
The  seventy-five  intervening  yards  were  devoured  as  by 
a  hurricane.  "River  Raisin  /"  "  River  Raisin  /"  "  French- 


280  The  Tory's  Daughter. 

town  !  "  "  Frenehtown  /  "  they  shouted,  with  eyes  aflame, 
and  faces  aglow. 

Sir  Colin  Campbell,  with  his  slender  thread  of  red, 
repulsed  a  rushing  cavalry  charge  at  Alma.  But  what 
could  any  men  do  four  feet  apart,  against  these  wild 
riding  Kentuckians,  away  here  in  the  woods  ?  Whoever 
heard  of  such  a  way  of  attack  before  ?  Through  and 
over  the  first  line  of  dodging,  thrusting  soldiers  they  ran, 
never  pausing  still  shouting  their  vengeful  cry,  flashing  in 
a  torrent  across  the  intervening  space,  taking  the  ineffec 
tive  rattle-fire  of  the  second  line,  sending  the  thunder  of 
their  coming,  the  swell  and  roar  of  their  shouts  and 
plunging  steeds  to  the  not  far  off  Proctor.  They  passed 
this  line  and  wheeling,  two  columns  to  the  right,  two  to 
the  left,  riding  along  the  rear  of  what  once  was  a  mili 
tary  formation,  brushing  aside  the  captains  and  lieu 
tenants  as  wooden  toys,  they  turned  and  emptied  their 
six  hundred  rifles  and  muskets  among  the  now  mixed, 
broken,  and  lost  soldiers,  retaining  no  rudiment  of  order. 
The  power  of  defence,  resistance,  as  a  body,  was  at  an 
end.  These  assailing  men  were  not  raw  volunteers,  but 
trained  men  and  horses.  The  instant  the  fire  was  deliv 
ered,  the  horse  became  a  statue,  his  rider  could  as  well 
recharge  his  gun  on  his  back  as  on  the  ground,  and  now 
save  the  rattling  of  their  arms,  while  this  was  simultane 
ously  performed,  no  sound  from  them  was  heard.  An  in 
stant — the  smallest  fraction  of  a  minute — and  they  were 
ready.  Each  man  would  sight  a  man  now.  That  bit  of 
time  crystallized  the  Englishmen's  sense  of  their  helpless 
condition. 

"  We  surrender  !  "  shouted  some  of  the  officers  along 
the  broken  lines,  and  down  went  the  useless  muskets, 
simultaneously,  and  up  went  the  depressed  muzzles  of 


The    Onset.  281 

the  Kentuckians,  ere  a  trigger  was  drawn.  Not  a  man 
fired. 

Not  thus  fared  Colonel  R.  M.'s  column.  We  saw  them 
successfully  pass  the  small  swamp,  re-form,  and  dash 
forward  through  the  open,  a  counterpart  of  the  charge  of 
their  comrades,  and  at  nearly  the  same  time.  Passing 
within  sight  of  the  infantry  of  Desha  and  Shelby,  advanc 
ing  to  attack  and  hold  the  Indians  in  check,  who  re 
mained  silent,  awaiting  the  expected  signal  gun  from 
Proctor.  On  they  went,  north-easterly,  plunging  in  the 
supposed  direction  of  Tecumseh's  post.  Then  they  gave 
voice,  whooping  and  yelling  like  madmen ;  they  ap 
proached  the  margin  of  the  swamp, — no  Indian  answering 
yell,  no  warriors  in  sight.  All  at  once  from  the  low  mar 
gin  of  green  below  them,  a  volley  as  nearly  as  Indians  ever 
so  fire,  close,  withering,  running  west  along  their  line, 
and  then  their  yell,  wild,  fierce,  prolonged,  startlingly 
cadenced,  the  real  thing  in  tone  and  effect,  inimitable  by 
white  men  save  in  exceptional  instances.  The  soul  of 
wildness,  savage  hate  and  fury,  it  was  yet  with  something 
plaintive,  coming  from  the  Indian  heart.  The  forlorn  ad 
vance  of  spies  was  for  an  instant  withered  by  the  fire. 
The  colonel  on  the  right  went  down  at  the  first  shots, 
receiving  four  wounds.  Major  Dudley  on  the  left  went 
down  also,  his  horse  receiving  a  missile. 

The  Indian  fire  and  yell  brought  Desha  and  Shelby 
hurrying  into  battle.  Dudley  was  on  his  feet  instantly. 
"Halt!  Dismount  !"  he  shouted.  The  trumpeter,  un 
hurt,  sent  it  sharply  stabbing  through  the  thickening  con 
fusion.  Everything  was  revealed  to  him  amid  the  shots, 
the  yells,  that  filled  the  forest.  The  horses  turned  back, 
the  riders  cool,  alert,  expert  woodsmen,  and  in  Indian 
tactics  stole  forward  with  their  loaded  guns,  covered  by 


282  The  Torys  Daughter. 

the  old  trees,  firing  at  the  lower  lying  Indians  only  when 
they  were  seen. 

The  Indian  position,  just  within  the  margin  of  an 
impassable  morass,  whose  greenery  veiled  them  and 
which  would  have  been  fatal  to  regular  soldiers,  was  to 
them  a  source  of  strength.  They  would  be  overshot,  the 
bayonet  could  not  reach  them.  If  the  fire  became  too 
heavy  and  scorching,  they  could  retire  through  the 
swamp  itself,  as  so  many  lightly  leaping  foxes,  whom  the 
enemy  could  not  follow. 

A  half  minute  of  confusion,  of  wheeling,  and  retiring 
the  unridden  horses,  and  the  battle  equalized  itself  along 
the  swamp's  irregular  margin.  These  splendid  forest 
rangers  of  the  dark  and  bloody  ground,  who  in  boyhood 
defended  their  tree-sheltered  cabins,  with  their  mothers 
and  elder  sisters,  against  savage  foray,  while  the  fathers 
and  older  brothers  were  away  on  an  expedition  to  raise 
the  siege  of  leaguered  fort,  or  defending  themselves  in 
lightly  built  stockades,  were  at  home  here,  with  their 
rifles,  in  the  woods,  the  hated  painted  Indian  confronting 
them,  and  the  appalling  long  drawn  yells  only  quickened 
their  blood.  They  were  born  and  reared  to  this  form  of 
war. 

Already  the  battle  with  Proctor  was  over.  Already 
Desha  and  Shelby's  infantry  had  joined  battle  down  the 
line  on  their  left.  Better  armed  and  as  skilled  as  the 
average  Indian,  and  well  posted,  though  pitted  against 
their  best,  under  the  eye  and  voice  of  their  greatest 
leader,  and  more  numerous  at  this  point,  the  battle  here 
raged  at  short  range  with  fury  for  fifteen  or  twenty  min 
utes.  There  was  no  general  rush  of  the  Indians.  There 
were  many  individual  hand  to  hand  duels.  The  natives 
did  their  best  execution  here,  and  were  severely  punished. 


The  Onset.  283 

As  was  their  wont  their  fallen  were  snatched  away  mys 
teriously,  many  of  them.  Heavily  assaulted,  sustaining 
the  weight  of  the  American  army  save  those  of  the 
mounted  who  attacked  the  British,  the  battle  was  against 
the  Indians,  comparatively  invisible  and  inaccessible 
though  they  were. 

On  his  right  front,  as  he  struggled  to  his  feet,  Dudley 
heard  a  clear  ringing,  far  reaching  voice,  in  the  tone  and 
accent  of  command.  He  had  heard  the  same  voice  in 
the  same  accents  in  the  wood  on  the  British  bank  of  the 
Maumee.  Whoever  had  heard  it  would  never  mistake  it. 
The  voice  of  Tecumseh,  steadily  maintaining  his  war 
where  the  battle  raged  the  fiercest.  Several  times  it 
reached  him,  while  the  battle  was  yet  uncertain.  Then 
it  ceased. 

He  heard  it  no  more.  The  battle  at  that  point  grew 
faint,  subsided  almost  suddenly,  along  Dudley's  imme 
diate  front.  The  Indians  melted  away,  stole  out  of  the 
unavailing  struggle.  A  moment  before  the  green  margin 
was  full  of  yells,  gunshots,  stirring,  leaping,  flashing, 
disappearing  painted  forms,  plunging  forward  to  snatch 
a  scalp  and  vanishing,  perhaps  shot  down.  Then  they 
ceased,  were  not,  faded  like  phantoms,  and  silence  fell 
where  late  they  fought.  To  the  left  the  battle  continued, 
and  thither  the  dismounted  Kentuckians  drifted,  or 
turned  back  to  look  after  their  horses,  support  a  wounded 
comrade,  or  have  a  hurt  looked  to  by  the  surgeon.  The 
hospital  was  a  settler's  house  below.  Some  of  the 
surgeons  were  on  the  river's  bank  of  the  battle-field,  near 
the  post  of  Harrison  and  his  staff.  Thither  many  were 
carried  in  the  first  instance.  Very  soon  the  scene  of 
the  severest  passages  of  the  battle  was  left  vacant  and 
silent.  None  but  the  dead,  and  apparently  but  a  single 
one  of  the  living  combatants,  remained  upon  it. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

CARTER'S  SPEECH  OVER  TECUMSEH. 

DUDLEY  lingered  there  alone.  His  purpose  was 
to  ascertain,  if  possible,  the  fate  of  the  great 
chief,  who  had  so  singularly  influenced,  and  once  or  twice 
controlled,  his  own  fortunes  for  the  time.  He  was  im 
pressed  that  when  the  battle  was  at  its  fiercest,  Tecumseh 
had  fallen,  and  that  something  like  a  panic  had  come 
upon  his  immediate  followers,  who  at  once  ceased  their 
efforts.  If  this  was  the  solution  of  the  sudden  subsid 
ence  of  their  efforts,  they  may  have  left  his  body  on  the 
field.  He  moved  toward  the  point  where  he  last  heard 
his  war  cry,  just  in  advance  of  the  swamp's  margin,  where 
the  trees  stood  thick. 

"  'E's  furder  this  way,"  called  Carter  to  him,  who 
unnoticed  had  stolen  near,  motioning  with  his  hand  to 
Dudley's  right. 

"He?     Who?     Tecumseh?" 

"  'E's  done  fer,"  said  Carter  sadly. 

"Killed?" 

"  Dyin',"  was  the  laconic  reply. 

A  few  yards  farther,  and  just  below  the  upper  margin 
of  the  declivity,  and  a  little  back,  as  if  withdrawn  from 
the  notice  of  his  followers,  Tecumseh  had  fallen. 

"  It  is  too  pesky  bad,"  Carter  said,  sadly,  pointing  to 
him  where  he  lay. 

Dudley  found  him  ghastly  and  silent.  Sadly  he  bent 
284 


Carter 's  Speech  Over   Tecumseh.  285 

over  him.  He  had  been  wounded  in  front,  the  blood  still 
stealing  from  the  hurt.  His  eyes  were  open,  with  signs 
of  fading  consciousness  in  the  face.  The  gaze  was  far 
away.  The  fire  of  battle  had  faded  from  the  dimming 
half-closed  orbs,  over  which  the  invisible  shadow  was 
darkening. 

He  noticed  Dudley,  a  smile  played  about  the  pale  lips. 
The  youth  wore  his  restored  gift  that  day.  He  placed  it 
in  the  fading  vision  of  the  dying  chief.  Tecumseh  roused 
a  little  with  a  movement  of  his  brow,  a  turn  of  the  eyes  as 
if  toward  the  swamp. 

"  Your  warriors — you  would  have  me  call  them  ?  "  A 
smile  almost  of  joy  was  the  answer. 

"  Stand  here  by  him,"  said  Dudley  to  Carter.  "  Let 
nothing  disturb  him."  He  picked  up  a  lost  gun  rod,  at 
tached  his  white  handkerchief  to  its  screw  end,  and  started 
to  pentrate  the  high  ferns  and  greenery  of  the  swamp. 
As  he  did  so,  Carter  raised  a  low,  peculiar  note,  which 
rising  and  increasing  was  prolonged.  It  was  instantly 
answered  from  the  near  distance. 

"  There  they  air,"  said  the  old  hunter.  A  few  steps 
and  Dudley  gained  a  bit  of  hard  land  running  into  the 
swamp's  depths.  Here  he  waved  his  little  flag  of  peace, 
and  almost  instantly  his  name — "  Dudley  " — was  spoken 
from  his  right  and  near.  He  saw  no  one,  but  answered, 
"  I  am  Dudley."  The  greenery  parted,  two  or  three 
painted  forms  appeared  but  a  few  yards  distant.  One  of 
them  he  recognized  as  one  of  the  young  warriors  whom 
he  met  the  day  of  his  escape  from  Detroit.  They  were 
both  there. 

"  I  am  Dudley,"  he  repeated.  "  I  will  give  Tecumseh 
to  his  children,"  turning  as  if  to  go  back. 

He  was  understood.     The  youths  stepped  forward,  ac- 


286  The  Torys  Daughter. 

companied  by  a  tall  handsome  young  chief,  and  one  or 
two  older  warriors.  Evidently  not  the  whole  of  their 
party.  As  they  approached  Dudley,  one  of  the  youths, 
touching  the  tall  young  warrior,  said — "  Red-Wing,"  a 
name  then  new  to  him.  Silently  he  conducted  them 
back,  pushed  aside  the  high  fronds,  disclosing  the  prone 
form,  and  Carter  standing  over  it,  sadly  leaning  on  his 
rifle,  not  more  than  three  yards  distant. 

They  were  prepared  for  the  sight.  Prepared  to  bear 
hence  the  mighty  form.  Mutely  the  sad  warriors  stole  to 
his  side,  bent  over  him.  He  seemed  to  know  them  even 
then,  and  a  look — it  may  have  been  Dudley's  fancy — of 
satisfaction  stole  over  the  placid  face. 

Two  other  slain  warriors  lay  near  the  chief.  One 
was  of  the  noblest  stature  and  finest  form,  cinctured  about 
the  loin,  from  which  the  trunk  and  limbs  downward  were 
showily  clothed  in  the  weeds  of  a  native  dandy ;  painted 
from  the  girdle  upward  in  war  colors,  otherwise  unclothed. 
The  warriors  with  scarce  a  look  turned  from  this  to  the 
third,  whom  Dudley  now  learned  was  his  benefactor  Wase- 
goboah.  They  lingered  tenderly  about  it,  and  then 
turned  to  the  great  chief.  He  was  raised  with  care,  and 
blankets  passed  under  him.  As  they  were  about  to  bear 
him  hence,  Dudley  placed  the  decoration  of  the  Queen 
on  his  breast,  with  his  fingers  he  tenderly  pressed 
down  the  now  useless  lids,  and  bent  reverently  over  the 
regal  brow,  never  more  kingly  than  now,  pressed  it  with 
his  hand,  and  the  dead  chief  was  borne  away. 

Within  a  minute,  one  of  the  youths,  with  a  band  of  war 
riors,  returned,  and  in  the  same  way  carried  the  remains 
of  his  brother-in-law,  who  fought  and  fell  by  his  side. 

They  did  not  return  for  the  third,  which  was  left  to  be 
claimed,  disputed  about,  and  I  fear  disfigured,  by  those 


Carter's  Speech  Over  Tecumseh.  287 

who  believed  it  to  be  the  body  of  the  great  Shawanoe 
who  fell  the  fourth  of  an  hour  after  his  reputed  slayer, 
Johnson,  had  tottered  to  the  rear,  supported  by  a  friend, 
to  seek  a  surgeon  for  his  wounds. 

The  warriors  did  not  return.  The  two  Americans 
stood  looking  sadly  in  their  direction  for  a  half  minute, 
and  turned  away. 

"  It  is  too  pesky  bad,"  repeated  the  old  hunter.  Had 
he  ever  heard  of  Walter  Scott  he  might  have  quoted  his 
grim  Moss-trooping  knight : 

"  I'd  give  the  lands  of  Delorain, 
Dark  Musgrove  were  alive  again." 

They  moved  over  the  ground,  torn  and  trampled  by 
the  plunging,  halting,  wheeling  horses,  with  the  bodies  of 
four  or  five  of  their  late  riders,  stark  and  dead,  prone  as 
they  fell,  and  here  and  there  a  horse,  one  of  which  was 
Dudley's  own.  The  smoke  and  vapors  of  the  battle  hung 
low  in  the  damp  air  of  the  woods,  through  which  came  the 
warm  rays  of  the  declining  sun,  and  which  to  Dudley's 
ears  seemed  still  haunted  with  the  [dying  echoes  of  the 
shots,  shouts  and  yells  of  battle. 

He  at  once  took  his  way  with  rapid  strides  to  the  sta 
tion  of  his  general,  who  stood  receiving  the  hasty  verbal 
reports  of  the  different  commanders.  Ere  he  gained  his 
presence  he  met  an  orderly  in  search  of  him.  Rumor  had 
in  some  way  reached  his  chief  that  he  was  missing.  Men 
contradicted  the  first  statement  that  he  was  slain,  as 
he  had  been  seen  and  heard  at  the  closing  of  the  battle 
about  him. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THE  MESSENGER  TO  EDITH. 

HE  found  his  general  animated,  yet  calm  and 
business-like,  as  if  receiving  unusually  numerous 
morning  reports,  gathering  information,  verbally  given, 
answering  questions,  issuing  orders  with  the  cool  clear 
headed  dispatch  for  which  he  was  distinguished — an 
accurate  man  of  affairs,  the  details  of  which  were  never 
left  to  accident.  As  he  approached  he  was  greeted  with 
a  gratified  look  and  pleasant  smile.  He  gestured  the 
youth  to  a  group  of  British  officers  a  little  apart,  saying, 
"A  gentleman  has  a  matter  of  importance  to  you, 
personally.  Take  time  for  it."  Warburton,  with  three  or 
four  officers,  had  made  formal  submission,  were  permitted 
to  retain  their  swords,  and  were  awaiting  the  leisure  of 
the  victor,  for  any  directions  he  might  give  them. 

Dudley  knew  him,  advanced  and  gave  him  his  hand  as 
if  nothing  special  had  occurred. 

"  You  know  Mr.  Edward  Grayson,  Major  Dudley  ? ' 
said  Warburton. 

"  Yes.     What  of  him  ? " — a  little  startled. 

"  The  casualties  of  battle  reached  him.  He  is  danger 
ously  wounded." 

"  Wounded  !     Was  he  under  fire  ?  " 

"  It  would  seem  so.  He  was  in  our  rear,  not  far 
from  General  Proctor's  position.  They  retired  early. 
Your,  or  our  Indians — ours  lately,  I  fear — gained  our  rear. 
288 


The  Messenger  to  Edith.  289 

The  fight  with  us  was  over.  Grayson  was  approached 
and  deliberately  shot  down,  by  Walk-in-the-Water,  we 
think." 

"Walk-in-the-Water!  We  met  him  yesterday.  He 
wanted  to  join  us.  General  Harrison  refused  to  take 
him  and  told  him  to  keep  clear  of  us." 

"  We  are  certain  it  was  he.  He  had  a  grudge  against 
Mr.  Grayson,  the  most  upright  and  honorable  officer." 

"  Did  the  Indian  escape  ?  " 

"  There  was  no  one  to  deal  with  him.  What  can  you 
do  with  an  Indian,  with  the  warwhoop  in  his  ears !  The 
unfortunate  man  asks  for  you,  is  importunate  to  see 
you." 

"  Take  me  to  him  at  once,  Colonel — if  I  may  ask 
it." 

On  the  way  to  him — "  His  daughter  is  with  Mrs. 
Proctor,  at  the  Moravian  town,"  said  McLain,  to  whom 
the  colonel  had  introduced  him. 

"  Gracious  Father !  These  two,  Edith,  and  her  father ! 
He  dying,  perhaps  !  The  British  army  destroyed,  cap 
tured."  Brokenly  these  things  came  to  the  young  man's 
mind. 

"  Our  surgeon  says  the  wound  is  mortal,"  said  McLain. 
"  He  may  not  rally  from  the  shock." 

Under  an  old  tree,  on  a  camp  mattress,  they  found  him. 
Way  was  made  for  the  American  officer  at  his  side.  The 
youth  knelt  by  the  fallen  man's  couch,  took  his  hand  in 
both  his  own,  and  bent  over  his  face.  The  dying  man's 
eyes  lighted,  a  slight  assuring  pressure  met  the  clasp 
ing  hand. 

"  Cliffton    Dudley,    son   of     Philip,"    murmured     Mr. 
Grayson. 
19 


290  The   Tory's  Daughter. 

11  What  would  you  from  me  ? "  tenderly  and  greatly 
moved. 

"  Edith  ? "  with  an  anxious  look  into  the  eyes  near 
his  own. 

"  What  of  her  ?  "  asked  the  young  officer. 

The  answer  was  a  mute  appealing  look,  which  the 
youth  understood. 

"  I  told  her  how  I  regarded  her,"  he  said  in  reply  to 
it. 

An  exquisite  smile  came  into  the  wan  face,  about  the 
lips  and  eyes. 

"  You  are  her  all,  lover,  husband,  father,  kindred,"  he 
murmured,  closing  his  eyes,  as  if  he  was  naught.  From 
the  shut  lids  tears  were  now  distilling.  For  a  half 
minute  the  bystanders  thought  he  had  closed  them 
finally.  The  surgeon  placed  a  little  brandy  at  his  lips, 
raising  his  head.  He  sipped  it,  opened  them,  his  thought 
still  of  his  daughter. 

"  Bring  her  here,  or  take  me  to  her,"  he  said,  a  little 
revived. 

"  I  will  bring  her  at  once,"  said  the  youth  rising. 

A  curious  spectacle  to  the  British  officers  who  knew 
the  dying  man,  his  prejudice,  bitterness  toward  the 
Americans,  here  now  receiving  this  officer  of  the  enemy. 
They  knew  his  name,  something  of  the  rumored  romance 
of  his  attachment  to  Edith,  whose  name  they  caught  from 
the  father's  lips,  and  enough  of  his  words  to  imply  that 
she  was  to  be  committed,  at  this  last,  to  his  protection — 
to  become  his  bride,  perhaps. 

There  was  a  hurried  consultation,  a  litter  was  brought, 
the  mattress  carefully  lifted  upon  it,  some  of  the  British 
soldiers  called  as  bearers.  McLain  took  charge  of  the 
cortege  which  was  soon  on  its  way  to  the  Indian  village. 


The  Messenger  to  Editli.  291 

A  horse  was  led  to  Dudley,  which  he  mounted  and  set 
forward  to  prepare  the  daughter  to  receive  her  dying 
father.  They  to  thus  meet,  who  parted  last  on  that 
night,  on  the  banks  of  the  dark  swift  Maumee.  He,  the 
scorned  lover,  now  commissioned  to  bear  this  message 
to  her  who  scorned  him,  unknowing  of  her  love  as  he 
was. 

The  ladies  at  Moravian  town  were  thoroughly  awak 
ened  by  the  call  that  summoned  General  Proctor  to 
battle.  No  more  thought  of  rest  for  them  or  of  retire 
ment.  The  hours  of  darkness  brooded  prolongingly  to 
them.  The  rough  north  clouds,  tinged  with  winter,  that 
breathed  upon  the  departing  general,  disappeared  with 
the  night,  and  the  sun  arose  cheeringly  and  with  good 
omen,  as  it  seemed  to  the  three  women. 

Edith  and  Anita  had  the  impression  that  the  armies 
were  encamped,  confronting  each  other,  and  with  the 
light  would  join  battle.  The  elevation  on  which  the 
town  was  built  was  for  the  region  considerable  ;  its  slope 
was  gentle  toward  the  west.  Below  them  the  primitive 
forest  beyond  the  cleared  fields — not  wide,  in  that  direc 
tion — stood  unbrokenly,  to  the  river's  bank,  as  contin 
uously  on  the  southern  bank.  Nothing  could  be  seen 
save  the  grand  innocent  woods. 

Anita,  with  the  wild  heroic  blood  of  her  race  quickened 
by  the  certainty  that  her  people  were  in  ambush  near, 
awaiting  the  enemy's  coming,  to  attack,  moved  lithely 
and  nervously  about,  her  hand  toying  with  her  father's 
dagger  which  she  wore,  her  splendid  eyes  flashing,  her 
thin  nostrils  distended,  with  the  eager  expectancy  of  the 
hour,  every  fibre  of  her  exquisite  form  quivering,  every 
sense  alert. 

Edith,  externally  calm,  her  face   colorless — the  blood 


292  The  Torys  Davgliter. 

had  gone  back  from  the  surface  to  fortify  the  citadel. 
She  knew  she  must  passively  wait.  The  mouth  was 
firmly  set,  her  long,  dark,  nearly  straight  brows  almost 
meeting,  were  low,  like  a  resolved  woman,  who  had  many 
approaches  to  her  heart  to  guard.  She  could  not  do,  and 
must  endure  passively,  the  severest  test  of  strength,  power, 
will,  which  would  find  relief,  as  vigor,  in  action. 

The  sun  clomb  slowly  toward  the  zenith.  The  wild 
serene  peace  of  the  forest  was  unbroken.  Life  there 
flowed  in  its  undisturbed  channels.  What  did  it  mean  ? 
In  the  final  hour  did  the  Americans  hesitate — had  they 
turned  back  ?  Where  was  Dudley  ?  Did  he  think  of  her, 
now  ?  Did  he  know  he  was  near  her  ?  Two  armies, — 
bloody  battle  were  between  them.  Her  heart  was  be 
seeching  Heaven  to  guard  him,  the  more  as  she  had, 
seemed  to — to — no  matter.  He  had  no  mother,  sister, 
to  ask  God  to  guard  him.  In  some  vague  way,  as  her 
thought  would  linger  with  him,  the  impression  of  impend 
ing  evil  to  her  seemed  to  gather  about  him.  If  he  was 
to  be  stricken,  let  her  but  see  and  tell  him  all  her  heart 
while  he  would  yet  know.  Tecumseh,  notwithstanding 
his  impressions  of  not  surviving,  she  felt  would  pass 
through  untouched.  She  knew  there  was  no  reason  for 
this  impression  that  did  not  as  well  apply  to  Cliff  ton. 
Her  father,  as  in  personal  peril,  did  not  occur  to  her. 
He  was  not  armed,  would  not  be  exposed,  save  as  a  sur 
geon,  a  chaplain  might  be. 

At  high  noon  the  forest  still  seemed  a  solitude.  She 
noted  the  time — one  !  two  !  three  !  Then  the  indistinct 
sounds  of  tumult ;  low  down  thunder,  like  the  smothered 
roar  of  millions  of  pigeons  getting  on  wings  from  the 
ground  and  beating  the  air  together.  She  had  never 
heard  anything  like  it.  Was  that  the  battle  ?  Then 


The  Messenger  to  Edith.  293 

shouting,  a  volley  of  musketry,  a  wild,  great  continuous 
tide  of  human  voices,  with  a  roar,  which  then  diminished 
and  still  the  woods  were  full  of  it.  Then  another  wild 
shout,  and  the  answering  yell  of  1500  Indian  warriors. 
They  had  joined  battle — this  was  their  war.  When  this 
struck  the  ears  of  the  Indian  girl  she  sprang  into  the  air, 
with  her  brandished  dagger  in  her  hand,  and  in  her 
woman's  high,  clear,  far-reaching  voice,  answered,  echoed 
it  back.  This  cry  she  knew.  It  was  the  battle-cry  of  her 
people,  her  blood  and  kindred,  striking  the  hated  Amer 
ican,  avenging  a  century  of  wrong. 

Edith  sprang  to  her,  yet  could  hardly  control  her,  in 
this  first  firing  of  her  wild  blood. 

This,  the  warwhoop,  was  followed  by  the  Indian  volleys, 
the  replying  Kentuckians,  the  heavy  and  nearly  simulta 
neous  musketry  of  Desha's  and  Shelby's  men.  A  contin 
uous  rattle  and  then  the  firing  died  away.  Silence,  and 
while  yet  the  tumult  was  audible  to  them  came  the  sound 
of  beating  hoofs,  up  the  near  road — the  sound  of  many 
horses.  Two  horsemen,  riding  madly,  dashed  up  the 
swell,  then  more,  half  a  hundred,  as  if  escaping.  On  they 
came — the  two  in  advance,  in  the  livery  of  the  Prince 
Regent,  not  drawing  rein,  bending  forward  over  their 
horses,  flashed  past,  blasting  Edith's  sight.  Their  follow 
ers  hard  after. 

She  recognized  them — the  two.  She  threw  up  her 
arms  in  a  frenzy  of  amazement!  Proctor  and  Home — 
fleeing !  A  British  general  fleeing  the  enemy,  running 
away  from  battle,  where  his  soldiers  yet  faced  the  foe. 
Craven !  dastard !  coward !  "  Oh,  my  father !  my 
father ! "  she  called  wildly,  sinking  down  and  covering 
her  face  with  her  hands,  in  an  agony  of  shame  and 
ansfuish.  For  the  time  she  saw  and  heard  no  more  save 


294  The  Torys  Daughter. 

an  indistinct  beating,  as  of  the  feet  of  running  horses. 
Later,  Anita  told  her  of  the  pursuers,  who  captured  a 
body  of  running  foot  soldiers,  with  whom  a  few  horsemen 
were  halted.  The  rest  dashed  forward,  gained  the  sum 
mit,  and  disappeared  in  hot  pursuit. 

Tecumseh,  then,  had  made  the  real  fight ;  the  British 
general  had  escaped,  was  the  reading  by  the  girls  of  what 
they  saw.  Edith's  hope  now  was  that  the  noble  matron 
had  been  spared  the  spectacle  of  the  fleeing  man,  as 
oblivious  of  wife  and  children  as  of  soldiers  and  honor. 
When  she  turned  her  eyes  again  down  the  river  she  saw 
a  single  horseman,  at  a  rapid,  springy  gallop,  riding  up  the 
road.  An  American  officer,  she  thought,  from  his  dark 
uniform.  He  came  up,  drew  rein,  and  she  recognized 
him. 

"  Blessed  Father !  Cliffton  Dudley  !  What  brings  him  ? 
How  can  I  meet  him  ?  "  were  her  mental  exclamations. 
"  Anita !  meet — detain  him,  for  an  instant !  "  she  said  to 
her  sister,  and  hurried  into  their  small  dwelling. 

"  Dudley !  "  cried  the  still  greatly  excited  Indian  girl, 
approaching  him  as  he  alit,  withholding  her  hands.  "  It 
is  all  over  ! "  she  cried,  her  eyes  flashing  in  his  face. 

"  All  over,  my  poor  dear  Anita,"  his  voice  as  his  look 
very  sad. 

"  Poor  Anita !  What  has  happened  ?  Tell  me  the 
worst." 

"  The  British  soldiers  are  prisoners." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  care  for  them  !  Tecumseh  ?  The  war 
riors  ? "  eagerly. 

"  They  fought  like  tigers,  till  long  after  the  soldiers 
threw  down  their  scarcely  used  guns — then  they  with 
drew." 

"  All  ?  all  ?     My  uncle — Tecumseh  ?  tell  me  of  him." 


The  Messenger  to  Edith.  295 

"  He  was  badly  hurt.  His  son  and  cousin  and  the 
young  Red-Wing — the  chief  and  his  warriors,  helped  him 
away." 

"  You  saw  it,  you  know  it  ?  " 

"  I  helped  them." 

Now  tears  relieved  her.  She  held  both  her  hands  to 
him,  which  he  took  tenderly  in  his,  looking  sadly  in  her 
face. 

"  You  came  to  see  my  sister  ?  "  raising  her  eyes  again 
to  his.  "  You  love  Edith  ? "  in  a  solemn  voice. 

"  As  I  love  life,  honor." 

"  Then  you  must  carry  her  away  this  time.  She  has 
gone  in.  I  will  show  you."  She  conducted  him  through 
the  open  outer  door  to  an  inner  room.  When  he  entered 
this,  she  closed  the  door,  leaving  the  two  alone,  and  ran 
out  to  meet  some  returning  Moravians,  who  had  seen 
something  of  the  battle.  She  did  not  return  for  many 
long  hours. 

Edith  arose  from  her  seat,  with  outward  calm,  her  face 
very  pale,  and  advanced  to  meet  her  visitor,  to  whom  she 
extended  her  hand,  her  eyes  just  meeting  his,  and  droop 
ing  under  them.  He  took  the  extended  hand  in  both  his, 
as  assuring  her  of  the  greatest  consideration.  She  was 
the  first  to  speak — must  speak. 

"  Oh,  Cliffton,  what  a  time  !  You  know  I  must  be 
humiliated,  crushed,  and  you  come  to  see  it,  to  triumph  in 
it." 

"  Triumph  !  You  still  think  so  meanly  of  me  ?  I  am 
still  less  to  you  than  your  worst  enemy." 

"  Oh,  Cliffton  !  You  do  not,  you  cannot  think  that. 
You  do  know,  you  must  know,  your  own  true  heart  must 
tell  you.  You  are  dear  to  me,  more  to  me  than  all 
friends,  King,  his  cause,  my  father — I  had  almost  said," 


296  The   Tory's  Daughter. 

now  trembling,  breaking  into  sobs  and  sinking  into  a  seat. 

He  knelt  by  her  side,  placed  one  hand  on  her  waist, 
with  the  other  drew  her  head  down  upon  his  shoulder. 

"  Dearest,  most  precious  of  earth  and  heaven, — you 
know  my  whole  heart,  my  life,  are  yours,  to  be  devoted 
to  you." 

At  the  word  dearest,  she  stayed  her  emotion  to  hear. 
What  woman  would  not,  a  speech  thus  begun.  As  it  was 
ended,  a  hand  came  up,  clasped  the  one  that  timidly 
touched  her  waist,  and  pressing,  drew  it  about  her,  as  if 
that  was  the  arm's  proper  place.  There  was  nothing 
more  to  tell.  Her  words  had  told  all.  This  priceless 
act  compensated  all. 

For  a  half  minute  the  youth  could  not  speak.  There 
was  another  more  precious  office  for  lips.  They  were 
not  to  be  thus  blessed  till  after  many  hours. 

"  I  come  from  your  father,"  he  said,  at  length,  op 
pressed  with  the  message  he  bore. 

"  My  father  !  "  springing  to  her  feet,  turning  to  him. 
He  arose,  still  retaining  the  willingly  captured  hand. 
"  My  father  !  from  my  father  ?  What  of  him  ?  I  had  a 
dread.  You  were  more  in  my  mind.  It  was  for  you  as 
so  exposed,"  speaking  with  frank  courage. 

He  placed  his  disengaged  hand  about  her  waist. 

"  Why  don't  you  tell  me,  Cliffton  ?  Is  he  hurt, 
slain  ?  " 

"  Not  slain,  but  he  is  hurt.  The  fortune  of  a  widely 
scattered  battle." 

"  Oh, — Oh  !  take  me  to  him  at  once,  I  pray  !  "  strong 
when  an  appeal  came  for  action,  though  for  such  a  cause. 

"  I  am  having  him  brought  to  you.  You  will  be  brave 
and  strong.  Be  patient  for  a  little.  He  will  soon  be 
here.  He  sent  me  to  you,  as  if  it  was  my  right  to  come. 
We  will  now  think  only  of  him." 


The  Messenger  to  Edith,  297 

"  Let  us  go  and  meet  him,"  she  said,  leading  towards 
the  door.  "  It  was  your  right  to  come  to  me.  No 
need  now  to  think,  to  speak,  of  ourselves.  Surely  we 
are  each  other's  now  and  alway.  Nations  may  war,  they 
shall  not  separate  us  again,"  and  their  hands  joined. 

"  Never — never  again  !  "  was  his  response. 

"  Our — my  father's  awful  mistake  was  to  involve  these 
unknowing  ones  in  our  cause  and  its  ruin.  Oh,  if  he 
can  be  spared  to  help  repair  it  to  them." 

"  Be  brave,  Edith." 

"  Oh,  I  know  what  that  means,"  she  said,  yet  moving 
firmly  and  rapidly,  cherishing  the  arm  that  supported 
her,  because  its  pressure  gave  her  such  comfort,  not 
because  its  support  was  needed. 

To  the  innocent  Moravians,  the  Americans  were  objects 
of  a  superstitious  terror.  They  fled,  and  hid  from  the 
passage  of  the  tempest  of  them — the  large,  bony  Ken- 
tuckians,  on  their  strong,  rough,  tall  horses.  Dudley,  the 
handsome,  brave,  sad  looking  young  officer,  was  of  dif 
ferent  form,  but  one  of  the  dreaded  Americans.  They 
were  surprised  to  see  him  stop  in  their  village,  and  in 
front  of  Mrs.  Proctor's  house  ;  more  surprised  to  see 
Anita  fly  to  him  so  cordially.  They  now  drew  near,  then 
she  led  him  to  the  beautiful  English  lady's  house  and  left 
him  there.  Very  soon  she  came  out  with  him.  They 
saw  him  pass  his  arm  about  her  waist — and  she  seemed 
to  like  it !  They  were  lovers  !  And  the  innocent  things 
did  not  greatly  wonder  at  that,  if  once  they  had  met. 
And  then  they  walked  down  the  road,  toward  the  place 
of  battle,  she  with  one  hand  in  his,  his  other  arm  keep 
ing  its  place,  and  they  followed — the  amazed  young  girls 
and  children,  while  the  elders  stood  staring  after  them 
wondering  what  it  meant. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE   FOREST   PRINCESS. 

AH-NI-TAH  started  with  a  purpose,  heroic  for  a 
woman  of  even  her  spirit.  Her  cousins,  who  had 
as  yet  won  no  names  for  themselves,  and  would  now  each 
be  known  by  the  name  of  his  slain  father,  had  the  night 
before  made  their  way  to  Moravian  town,  sought  out  and 
had  an  interview  with  her,  bringing  messages  from  Te- 
cumseh  and  Wasegoboah,  telling  her  of  the  doings  of 
the  day  and  the  expectations  of  their  morrow.  She  knew 
in  a  general  way  where  they  would  encamp  this  night. 

She  had  attached  a  young  Moravian  girl  to  her  ser 
vice,  for  the  few  days  of  her  remaining,  and  who  with  all 
the  women  of  the  village  regarded  her  as  a  very  superior 
being,  and  especially  as  like  them  she  was  a  Christian. 
She  called  her,  and  together  they  walked  down  the  road 
toward  the  battle-field.  She  had  been  reared  with  her 
people,  lived  with  them  all  her  life  until  within  the  last 
three  years,  when  with  their  consent  she  became  the 
adopted  sister  of  Edith,  by  whom  she  had  been  known 
and  taught  in  childhood.  She  was  an  expert  in  the 
native  sign  language  and  knowledge  of  the  forest.  On 
the  way,  her  companion  described  the  passes  of  the  long 
and  comparatively  narrow  swamp,  well  known  and  often 
used  by  the  villagers  to  gain  the  open  wood  north  of  it. 
It  was  her  purpose  to  visit  the  Indian  camp.  The 
returned  Moravians  knew  of  the  death  of  her  great  kins- 

298 


The  Forest  Princess.  299 

man,  and  though  the  words  and  manner  of  Dudley  left 
her  in  no  doubt  of  his  fate,  their  report  was  decisive. 
She  must  be  there  to  mourn,  as  a  daughter,  with  the  be 
reaved  family,  and  take  her  place  in  the  general  lamen 
tation  at  his  interment  which  she  knew  would  take  place 
ere  the  next  dawn.  Her  place  was  with  her  sorely 
straitened,  defeated,  and  destitute  people,  in  this  awful 
visitation.  She  may  have  been  conscious  of  another 
motive,  which  she  put  by  as  well  as  she  could.  She  knew 
the  preferences  of  the  gallant  young  Sac  chief.  He  had 
sent  her  a  tender,  half  sad  message  by  the  young  Tecum- 
seh,  as  he  would  now  be  called,  to  which  she  had  made  a 
light,  half  coquettish  reply.  It  was  the  memory  of  this 
that  induced  in  part  the  decided  act  of  her  token  by 
young  McLain.  Child  of  nature  that  she  was,  at  the 
moment,  on  the  eve  of  battle,  she  was  equal  to  the  act, 
had  she  heard  no  word  from  him.  Skilled  in  the  ways  of 
the  heart,  from  her  intuition,  and  careful  study  of  her 
sister's  affair,  she  had  no  doubt  of  her  supreme  place  in 
the  young  chief's  regard ;  and  she  had  no  hesitation  in 
letting  him  see  in  that  hour,  that  her  thought  was  of  him. 

A  fourth  of  the  way  to  the  American  position  they  met 
the  slowly  moving  litter  of  the  wounded  man.  It  was 
set  down,  and  she  had  some  touching  words  with  him, 
told  him  her  errand,  had  his  whispered  blessing,  kissed 
his  cold  hand,  leaving  her  tears  upon  it.  As  she  was 
about  to  go  forward,  McLain  told  her  of  the  delivery  of 
her  trinket  to  the  young  chief,  the  disposition  he  made 
of  it,  and  placed  his  gift  in  her  hand.  What  an  exquisite 
thrill,  as  she  clasped  it  closely  in  her  slim,  taper  ringers 
and  palm,  shot  along  her  nerves — so  new  and  so  delicious. 

Day  dying  was  yielding  to  shadow  in  the  mysterious 
depth  of  the  old  wood,  as  the  girls  approached  the  now 


300  The  Tory's  Daughter. 

peaceful  scene  of  the  late  conflict.  Evidently  victors  and 
captives  had  encamped  on  the  ground  occupied  by  the 
Americans,  along  the  river,  at  the  commencement  of  the 
battle.  The  many  sounds  of  a  great  camp,  as  the  gleams 
of  its  fires,  met  the  ears  and  eyes  of  the  alert  Anita.  She 
had  an  especial  object  for  a  closer  inspection  of  the  camp. 
She  left  her  companion,  and  under  cover  of  forest  trees, 
stole  near  and  moved  along  the  eastern  border  of  their 
camp,  until  she  satisfied  herself  by  intelligent  obser 
vation,  that  they  certainly  would  not  .move  that  night. 
Armed  with  her  dagger,  lithe  and  noiseless,  she  was  near 
enough  to  hear  their  careless  words  more  than  once. 
As  she  made  the  nearest  approach,  there  came  the 
thought — a  fierce,  momentary,  passionate  desire,  to  lead 
a  thousand  warriors  in  a  wild,  swift  rush  upon  them  that 
night.  She  shook  her  hand  in  a  menace  at  them,  silently 
laughed  the  next  instant,  at  her  childish  passion,  and 
turned  back  to  her  patiently  waiting  maid  and  companion. 

She  placed  a  coin  in  her  hand  and  received  from  her 
the  large,  long  blanket  she  wore,  capote  fashion,  over  her 
head,  as  was  the  custom  of  the  native  women ;  and  with 
a  low  spoken  message  to  Edith  and  Dudley,  she  dis 
missed  her,  and  stood  looking  after  her  retiring  form 
until  it  was  hidden  by  the  trees  in  the  now  fast  growing 
night. 

Alone,  she  replaced  her  weapon,  opened  the  paper 
parcel  containing  Red-Wing's  gift,  which  she  now  saw 
for  the  first  time  since  it  came  to  her  hand.  It  proved 
what  she  would  have  hoped  for,  one  of  his  own  ear 
jewels.  A  flat,  plain,  wide  ring  or  rim  of  gold,  contain 
ing  a  fiery  red  stone.  She  had  seen  it  and  its  fellow  in 
his  ears  and  knew  they  were  greatly  admired.  She 
pressed  it  to  her  lips,  her  slight  but  rounded  bosom, 


The  Forest  Princess.  301 

examined  it  in  the  fading  light,  and  placed  it  in  her 
small  ear,  robbed  for  his  sake  that  morning.  Then  she 
made  a  warm  little  cup  of  her  hand,  and  prisoned  and 
pressed  it  with  low,  sweetly  murmured  words,  directing  it 
to  stay  there,  and  cling  to  her  ear  like  a  dear,  precious 
jewel  that  it  was,  and  may  the  blessed  Saviour  keep  and 
bless  it  forever. 

She  then  opened  out  the  coarse  blanket,  gayly  worked 
with  beads  and  red  yarn,  on  a  ground  of  now  not  pure 
white,  with  a  red  border.  She  coquettishly  threw  it  over 
her  shoulders,  drawing  it  up  over  her  head,  and  adjusted 
it  deftly  to  her  form.  It  was  not  wanted  for  her  walk, 
and  folding,  she  laid  it  on  her  arm,  and  then  in  her  light 
half-barbaric  costume,  short  skirt  of  rich  cloth,  hose, 
moccasins,  close  bodice  of  gay  color,  her  sash  over  one 
shoulder,  sustaining  a  small  reticule  in  which  was  her 
feathered  scarlet  cap,  her  belt  having  her  dagger,  her 
head  dressed  only  in  its  wavy,  glossy,  black  hair,  with 
merely  a  red  ribbon  to  confine  it,  she  addressed  herself 
to  her  heroic  adventure  of  passing  the  swamp  alone  in 
the  darkness,  to  find  the  camp  of  her  stricken  country 
men.  The  night  had  already  darkened  the  forest,  but  no 
thought  of  personal  fear  approached  her. 

There  was,  as  stated,  a  way  along  a  narrow  strip  of 
continuous  hard  land,  to  find  which  was  her  first  care. 
The  camp  of  her  friends  must  be  on  the  hard  land  on 
the  other  side,  a  considerable  distance  below,  where  the 
swamp,  deepest  and  widest,  lay  broad  and  impassable  to 
the  American,  unless  this  way  was  betrayed  to  him. 
She  knew  the  roar  and  tumult  of  the  battle  must  have 
frightened  the  predaceous  beasts  out  of  their  covers  in 
the  swamp  for  the  time,  and  sent  them  cowering  miles 
away.  Instructed  by  the  Moravian  girl,  who  had  pointed 


302  The   Torys  Daughter. 

out  to  her  an  immense  tulip  tree  which  marked  the 
southern  terminus  of  the  pass,  she  had  little  trouble  in 
finding  it.  Faint  signs  of  the  trail  along  its  summit  were 
easily  traced  by  her  sensitive  moccasined  feet,  and 
fleetly  and  noiselessly  she  skipped  along.  Once  she  was 
attracted  by  the  fragrance  of  a  late  blooming  wild  rose, 
found  in  the  swamp ;  she  paused  to  secure  it  and  then 
resumed  her  flight.  Nearly  two  miles  over  this  carried 
her  to  the  higher  land  of  the  north  side.  Confirmed 
night  was  now  in  the  gloomy  forest.  The  approach  of 
the  uprising  moon  was  discoverable  through  the  tree  tops 
and  very  soon  the  northern  bank  would  be  lit  up  by  it. 

She  knew  sentinels  would  be  posted  at  or  near  this 
point.  As  she  walked  along  she  practised  to  herself  the 
various  signal  notes  and  calls  in  use  among  her  people,  to 
indicate  presence  or  a  wish  to  communicate,  under  sim 
ilar  conditions.  They  would  know  this  pass,  though  its 
southern  connection  was  in  the  rear  of  the  English  posi 
tion. 

Keen  eyes  were  upon  the  child  ere  she  gained  the 
high  ground.  Not  many  yards  had  she  gone  from  its 
margin  toward  its  low  lying  summit,  ere  she  was  aware 
of  a  human  presence.  She  paused,  withdrew  a  white 
kerchief  from  her  satchel,  and  waved  it  about  her  head, 
when  a  warrior  advanced  noiselessly  from  a  tree  near 
her.  He  had  read  by  her  movements  and  form,  her  race, 
sex,  and  youth. 

"  Whither  goes  my  little  daughter  in  the  night,  alone  ?  " 
he  asked,  in  a  low  voice,  in  a  dialect  she  understood,  as 
he  came  near  where  she  paused. 

"  I  seek  the  camp  to  weep  with  the  mourning  women," 
was  her  reply,  in  accents  sad,  as  the  full  force  of  the  pur- 


The  Forest  Princess.  303 

pose  of  her  mission  was  brought  by  her  own  words  to 
her  apprehension. 

"  She  knows  of  the  anger  of  the  Great  Spirit  toward 
his  children?"  he  asked. 

"  I  do.  It  is  very  black.  What  is  the  name  of  my 
father  who  keeps  watch  here?" 

"  Standing-Bear ;  and  there  are  others.  Did  my  little 
daughter  see  the  camp  of  the  Long-Knives  ? " 

"  I  was  near  their  fires  to  see.  They  will  not  move  to 
night." 

"  How  does  she  know  that  ? " 

"They  were  scattered.  Their  guns  laid  by.  They  are 
weary;  their  horses  were  lying  on  the  ground." 

"My  child's  eyes  are  sharp  for  a  little  (young) 
woman." 

"I  am  the  daughter  of  warriors.  I  come  from  the 
English  peace  chief."  A  little  proudly  these  words  were 
said. 

"  Standing-Bear  is  glad  to  hear  her  words." 

"Where  shall  I  find  the  camp?" 

He  pointed  north-westerly  with  his  hand.  "  Keep  near 
the  swamp,  a  half  hour's  fast  walk,  my  daughter,  will  see 
the  camp  fires  from  the  higher  ground." 

"Who  shall  I  meet?" 

"Red-Wing  is  the  first." 

"Red-Wing?" 

"The  young  Sac  chief.  Light  and  gay,  pleasant 
spoken." 

"Light — gay,  my  father  says?" 

"  He  fought  like  an  old  warrior  to-day,  and  brought  off 
the  bodies  of  Tecumseh  and  his  brother." 

"  Wasegoboah  ?     Is  Wasegoboah  slain  ? " 

"Yes,  by  Tecumseh's  side." 


304  The  Tory's  Daughter. 

The  maiden  remained  silent  an  instant.  This  was 
news  to  her.  A  great  loss,  but  now  swallowed  up  in  the 
greatest !  She  now  opened  her  blanket,  drew  it  about 
her  form,  and  up  over  her  head,  so  as  to  conceal  her 
slender  proportions.  The  act  and  its  motive  were  ap 
proved  by  the  warrior. 

"My  young  daughter  is  prudent.     She  need  not  fear." 

"  She  does  not,"  was  her  answer. 

As  she  moved  away  the  warm  blood  went  in  surges 
over  face  and  neck.  She  drew  the  blanket  well  over 
her,  confining  it  with  her  hand  across  the  lower  part  of 
her  face,  exposing  little  save  her  eyes.  Without  leave- 
taking  she  moved  forward.  When  distant  many  yards, 
the  girl  assumed  the  manner  and  carriage  of  her  sister, 
careless  of  the  sounds  caused  by  her  feet. 

For  her  the  forest  was  no  longer  dark  and  empty. 
Red-Wing  and  her  shy  girl  love  lit  up  and  glorified  it. 
She  was  not  a  Caucasian  maiden,  troubled  how  she 
should  or  could  meet  her  lover,  who  had  spoken  only  by 
a  token,  and  that  in  response  to  one  from  herself.  She 
had  no  thought,  save  a  half  fear  that  he  might  not  see  or 
hear  her.  For  the  rest,  if  he  did,  she  took  no  thought. 
Now  she  bethought  her  of  her  real  character,  a  stealthy 
moving  Indian  girl,  and  fell  into  its  form,  walking  noise 
lessly  over  the  leaf-strewn  ground,  making  no  more 
sound  than  the  leaping  white-footed  mouse  of  the  wood. 
As  she  went,  warm  with  feeling  and  consciousness, 
she  twittered  to  herself  the  notes  of  the  small,  dark- 
plumaged  oriole,  interspersed  with  the  peeps  of  the  little 
hylode,  the  trill  of  a  bluebird,  and  then  a  low  breathed 
whip-poor-will  or  two. 

"What  singing  bird  goes  here?"  was  softly  breathed 
near  her,  in  a  musical  voice  not  to  be  mistaken. 


The   Forest  Princess.  305 

The  hot  blood  in  its  upward  leap  almost  raised  her 
from  the  ground,  as  the  tall,  lithe,  young  chief  stood  by 
her  side  unseen,  till  he  spoke. 

She  recoiled  a  step.  It  was  her  role  to  be  surprised ; 
nature  and  art  united  to  make  it  perfect. 

"No  singing  bird,"  in  a  feigned,  small  voice,  drawing 
her  hiding  drapery  more  closely  over  her  face,  while  her 
head  drooped  forward.  "  A  girl  going  to  weep  with  the 
maidens,"  she  added. 

"  May  I  not  see  my  young  sister's  face  ?  The  night 
hides  it  sufficiently, "  he  said,  now  advancing  nearer 
her. 

"  Standing-Bear  told  me  about  a  young  chief, "  she 
said,  shrinking  from  him.  "  Are  you  he  ?  " 

"What  did  he  say  of  Red- Wing — the  grim  old 
growler  ? " 

"That  he  was  light  and  gay,  and  pleasant  spoken. 
Young  girls  should  avoid  such." 

"  Oh,  he  did  !  My  little  sister  does  not  know  Red- 
Wing.  She  is  alone  in  the  great  woods,  and  has  far  to 
go, "  in  a  tender,  pitying  tone.  He  stepped  aside  and 
asked,  "  May  Red- Wing  know  who  she  is  ?  "  most  re 
spectfully. 

His  voice  and  manner  touched  the  girl's  heart  exquis 
itely. 

"  She  came  from  the  Moravians,"  she  said. 

"  She  knows  Ah-ni-tah  ? "  eagerly. 

"  Very  well ;  she  came  from  her." 

"  She  did  ?  "  excitedly.  "  Tell  me  of  her,"  drawing 
nearer. 

"  Why  should  I ;  you  not  wear  her  jewel  ?" 

"  Don't  I  ?  "  lowering  his  head  for  inspection,  the  paint 
washed  from  his  face.  "  See  if  I  don't.  Tell  Ah-ni-tah." 

20 


306  The  Torys  Daughter. 

She  put  up  her  hands  and  placed  them  simultaneously 
ever  his  ears.  In  the  right  hung  her  gift.  The  act 
released  the  blanket  which  slid  from  her  to  the  ground, 
and  the  princess  stood  revealed  to  the  young  chief's 
eyes. 

"  Ah-ni-tah  !  "  in  a  glad  voice.  He  clasped  the  slender 
waist  with  his  arms,  lifted  her  from  the  ground  to  him 
self.  For  one  moment  she  abandoned  herself  to  him 
wholly.  Then  her  form  became  rigid  in  his  embrace. 

"  Unhand  me  !  "  she  commanded  in  an  imperious  voice ; 
"the  daughters  of  the  Shawanoe  are  not  to  be  taken 
thus." 

1 

"You  sent  me  your  jewel,"  in  a  tender,  beseeching 
voice. 

"  You  make  me  regret  it,  though  you  were  going  to 
battle." 

"You  wear  mine,"  he  urged.  It  gleamed  on  his  eyes 
from  her  ear.  She  placed  her  hand  on  her  dagger.  He 
saw  it  flash  as  it  leaped  upward  the  full  length  of  her  arm 
for  a  blow. 

"  I  will  free  myself,'*  in  a  voice  not  to  be  mistaken,  she 
cried. 

He  released  her,  stepped  a  yard  back  from  her ;  put 
the  silken  sash  from  over  his  breast  where  it  hung  from 
his  shoulder,  placed  his  hand  over  his  heart  to  show  her 
where  it  was,  and  withdrew  it  with  a  little  gesture. 
"  Strike ! "  he  said  in  a  proud,  sad  voice.  "  The  horses  of 
the  Kentuckians  turned  aside  from  me;  their  rifles 
flashed  in  my  eyes,  their  bullets  shunned  my  breast. 
Ah-ni-tah  does  not  love  Red-Wing.  He  would  die." 

The  girl  drooped,  she  dropped  her  nerveless  hands, 
the  dagger  fell  to  the  ground.  She  sprang  forward,  threw 
her  hands  on  the  young  chief's  shoulders,  her  head  fell 


The  Forest  Princess.  307 

upon  his  breast  with  a  sob,  her  cheek  resting  against  the 
heart  offered  to  her  dagger.  A  half  minute  and  she  lifted 
her  face,  her  eyes  raining  tears,  in  a  mute  appeal.  The 
tender  eyes  of  her  lover  met  hers,  his  arms  went  again 
about  the  slender,  yielded  waist;  his  lips  were  placed 
upon  her  mouth.  The  light  wind  wafted  the  leaves  aside, 
a  shaft  of  moon  rays  shot  through  the  opening  to  witness 
this  forest  betrothal. 

A  half  minute  and  then  the  young  chief — "  I  may  ask 
you  of -your  uncle  the  Prophet,  and  your  aunt,  when  their 
tears  are  dry  ? "  he  asked. 

"  I  will  be  your  true  wife ;  gather  wood,  build  your 
fire,  cook  your  corn  and  venison,  when  you  come  from 
the  hunt,"  answered  the  maiden,  with  the  meekness  and 
self-abnegation  of  the  Indian  woman. 

"  It  shall  not  be  said  that  the  daughter  of  Cheeseekau, 
of  Tecumseh,  the  wife  of  Red-Wing,  is  a  drudge,"  he 
replied.  "  I  will  be  as  the  proudest  white  man  when  he 
receives  a  bride." 

"Anita  is  not  an  English  girl.  She  is  an  Indian 
woman.  Her  husband  a  warrior,  a  chief.  He  must  be 
served  as  chiefs  and  warriors  are,"  she  answered, 
proudly,  for  him. 

Red- Wing  caught  the  gleam  of  the  knife  where  it  fell. 
He  stooped,  picked  it  up  and  returned  it  to  its  sheath 
under  the  girdle  which  cinctured  the  girl's  waist. 

"  You  must  not  take  another  step  alone,"  he  said. 

"  Red-Wing  will  not  leave  his  post  to  go  with  a  girl ; 
that  were  a  shame  to  a  man,"  she  said. 

"  Then  you  must  remain  with  me  till  our  spies  return," 
he  replied. 

"  You  forget,  my  uncle  and  aunt  have  not  given  me. 
To  remain  alone,  a  girl  with  a  young  warrior,  in  the 


308  The  Torys  Daughter. 

woods,  is  shame  to  a  woman,"  was  her  reply  to  this.  "  I 
go;  Red-Wing  goes  with  me  in  my  heart,"  placing  her 
hand  on  her  bosom.  "  You  stay ;  Anita  stands  by  your 
side,  her  hand  in  yours,"  she  said. 

They  stood,  two  simple  children,  holding  each  other 
by  the  hand,  loath  to  part.  A  sound  caught  the  ears  of 
both. 

"  Hist !  they  come,"  said  the  chief,  turning  in  the 
direction  of  Anita's  approach.  Very  soon  Standing-Bear 
and  his  co-sentinel,  with  three  scouts  returning  from  their 
inspection  of  the  American  camp,  drew  near.  They  con 
firmed  Anita's  report.  Nothing  was  to  be  feared  from 
the  enemy  that  night. 

The  mere  presence  alone  of  the  Indian  girl  at  that 
lonely  place,  was  not  cause  of  surprise.  When  Red- 
Wing  announced  her  name,  the  warriors  betrayed  a  good 
deal  of  interest.  They  are  less  stoical  among  themselves 
than  in  the  presence  of  those  of  European  descent.  She 
was  a  born  chieftainess  of  the  highest  rank,  and  as  such 
to  be  honored.  Standing-Bear,  leaving  Red-Wing  as  by 
right  of  rank  to  attend  the  high-born  maiden,  arrayed  the 
party  for  its  return,  with  a  front  and  rear  rank,  leaving 
the  young  pair  to  walk  between  them,  thus  covered.  It 
was  in  a  way  understood  that  the  young  chief  was  -a 
favored  suitor,  but  this  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  con 
sideration  extended  to  the  daughter  of  lost  Cheeseekau. 
They  passed  down  the  swamp's  margin,  gathering 
the  watch  as  they  went.  Then  turning  to  their  right 
they  went  over  a  swell,  a  ridge  of  land,  and  came  upon 
the  margin  of  a  small  stream  along  which  on  both  sides 
was  the  camp  of  the  main  body. 

Before  the  arrival  of  Anita  and  her  attendants,  the 
interment  of  Wasegoboah  and  two  or  three  minor  chiefs 


The  Forest  Princess.  309 

and  such  of  the  private  warriors  as  had  been  recovered, 
was  accomplished  by  their  kindred  and  friends. 

That  of  Tecumseh,  a  matter  of  international  importance, 
was  by  solemn  council  of  the  head  chiefs,  appointed  for 
the  hour  when  the  now  full  moon  should  attain  meridian. 
The  grave  had  been  already  excavated  with  reference  to 
an  opening  in  the  tree  tops,  so  that  its  rays  should  fall 
on  the  head  and  face  of  the  imperator  of  the  tribes, 
placed  in  state  over  the  opening  in  the  earth  to  be 
lowered  to  final  rest,  when  the  beams  of  the  distant  orb 
should  signal  the  time. 

Adjacent,  on  the  fallen  chiefs  left,  was  the  circle  of 
mourning  matrons,  the  conspicuous  elderly  women,  and 
such  of  the  younger  of  his  immediate  personal  following 
as  he  had  distinguished  by  acts  of  kindness,  or  who  were 
of  his  household,  seated  abjectly  on  the  earth  with 
their  heads  bowed.  These  from  time  to  time  sat  up  and 
united  in  a  melancholy  wail,  which  rising  with  the  first  in 
place  was  joined  in  by  the  one  on  her  right,  taken  up  by 
her  neighbor,  until  it  circled  round  swollen  by  all  the 
voices  into  a  dirge  loud  and  peculiar,  and  dying  away  as 
it  began,  with  an  effect  upon  the  ear  of  a  listener  singu 
larly  expressive  of  woe. 

Red-Wing  conducted  Anita  to  this  weird  circle  of 
lamentation,  at  the  point  occupied  by  the  widow  and 
sister  of  the  fallen  chief,  between  whom  she  took  her 
place  as  an  equal  mourner.  An  intimation  of  her  pres 
ence  went  swiftly  around  the  band,  producing  a  sense  of 
relief  that  now  the  circle  was  complete.  She  at  once 
joined  in  the  vocal  manifestations  of  the  general  woe,  so 
aptly  expressive  of  her  personal  sorrow  for  her  own  loss, 
and  that  of  her  family,  and  of  the  divided  and  broken 
Shawanoe  nation  to  which  they  belonged. 


310  The   Torys  Daughter. 

Long  the  young  chief  lingered  near  her,  catching  and 
following  her  low  sweet  voice,  which  rilled  his  breast  with 
longing  to  carry  her  away  to  some  blessed  retreat  of  his 
far  off  lovely  land,  and  soothe  and  assuage  her  sorrow. 
He  remembered  that  his  own  place  was  with  the  younger 
chiefs  and  warriors,  and  finally,  reluctantly,  he  stole  away 
to  find  and  occupy  it.  There  his  romantic  adventure  of 
the  night  was  already  known,  which,  with  his  exploits  of 
the  day,  united  to  make  him  the  hero  of  this  disastrous 
expedition. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

'WE    BURIED    HIM     DARKLY   AT   DEAD   OF    NIGHT.' 

THE  moon  gained  the  zenith  and  threw  her  silver 
urn  full  of  light  down,  deluging  and  lighting  the 
grand  face  of  the  mighty  dead.  Born,  living,  and  ruling 
in  the  wan  twilight  of  barbarism,  whose  broken  bands  of 
children  with  saddened  faces  were  turning  away  for  a 
final  exit,  already  vanishing  phantoms  of  a  past,  what 
place  and  surroundings,  what  light  more  fitting  for  his 
obsequies  ! 

Around  him  the  inner  circle  of  the  elder  chiefs,  the 
wise  men,  distinguished  by  valor,  prudence, — qualities 
best  esteemed, — were  sitting  with  bowed  heads  in  silence. 
Back  of  them  the  less  conspicuous  middle  aged,  with  still 
an  outer  circle  of  the  young  men  and  youths,  beyond  which 
were  the  rabble  of  boys  and  children,  the  weak  minded, 
and  such  as  failed  to  fill  the  common  requirements  upon 
the  male*  savage.  All  silent,  sad,  struck  each  as  his 
nature  was,  by  the  common  blow. 

At  the  thus  Heaven-designated  hour,  Laulewasikaw, 
the  surviving  brother,  who,  as  prophet  was  called  Tens- 
kautawa,  slowly  arose,  under  the  weight  of  the  public  and 
personal  grief  which  oppressed  him. 

Injustice  has  alway  been  done  this  chief.  That  he  was 
early  sincere  in  the  needed  reformation  of  his  own  life, 
and  his  now  wholly  unsuccessful  efforts  to  reform  the 


312  The  Tory's  Daughter. 

lives  of  his  nation  and  race,  cannot  be  doubted.  That 
he  acted  much  under  the  influence  of  Tecumseh,  and  was 
to  some  extent  the  victim  of  his  own  delusion,  can  admit 
of  no  question.  His  enmity  to  the  Americans  won  their 
enduring  hatred,  while  his  failure  at  Tippecanoe  dis 
credited  him  with  his  own  race. 

He  was  a  man  of  ability,  an  orator,  a  politician,  a  logi 
cian,  persuasive,  not  a  warrior,  nor  in  any  way  a  leader 
in  war.  It  was  his  office  to  speak  first. 

"  Fathers  and  brothers  :  The  face  of  the  Great  Spirit 
is  not  turned  from  his  children  in  sorrow.  It  is  upon 
them  black  with  anger  and  wrath !  He  took  away  the 
heart  of  our  British  father  this  day,  that  his  hand  might 
fall  the  heavier  on  his  red  children.  He  lies  there," 
extending  his  long  arm  and  slender  hand  to  the  prostrate 
form.  "  He  lies  there,  because  we  are  unworthy  of  him. 
Whoever  this  night  praises  him,  condemns  himself. 
Tenskautawa  mourns  in  silence.  His  voice  is  lost  in 
grief  for  the  wrongs,  the  sins,  the  sorrows  of  his  people." 
He  then  slowly  drew  his  robe  over  his  head  and  face, 
and  sank  into  his  seat.  His  closing  words  were  received 
with  groans  of  responsive  anguish. 

Then  Osh-aw-ah-nah,  the  Chippewa,  Tecumseh's  com 
mander  of  the  right  in  the  battle  of  the  now  past  day, 
arose  :  "  We  are  little  children,"  he  said,  "  wandering  in 
the  woods.  Lo!  the  sun  falls  from  the  middle  of  the 
sky,  and  goes  out.  Who  shall  light  up  a  new  day  for  the 
little  children  ?  Who  shall  lead  them  from  the  woods  ?" 
He  sat  down  amid  groans  and  sobs. 

Then  arose  Black-Hawk  and  said,  with  solemnity : 
"  Black-Hawk  echoes  the  words  of  his  brothers." 

Round-head  arose :  "  Round-head  mourns  with  the 
nations.  Eldest  brother,  eldest  of  all  men,  of  all  women." 


4  We  Buried  Him  Darkly  at  Dead  of  Night!     3 1 3 

His  voice  broke  with  irrepressible  sorrow.  His  huge 
frame  convulsed  with  emotions  of  anguish. 

Sobs  were  heard  from  all  the  outer  circles. 

So  one  after  another  they  arose,  the  orators  speaking 
some  words.  Some  remained  silent.  Many  had  but  a 
word.  More  arose  and  made  a  gesture  expressive  of 
grief.  The  last  exclaimed,  "We  mourn  father,  mother, 
husband,  wife,  children,  nation,  all,  all  lost!" 

Then  followed  a  full  minute  of  utter  silence,  when  a 
way  was  opened  for  the  matrons  to  make  their  last  offer 
ings  to  the  great  chief.  Slowly  and  solemnly  the  sobbing 
women  entered  the  sacred  inner  circle.  The  widow  as 
first  and  nearest  in  place,  paused  by  her  husband's  side, 
and  said:  "Tecumseh's  wife  mourns  the  truest  husband, 
father  of  her  son,"  and  laid  a  chaplet  of  woven  autumn 
leaves  upon  his  breast. 

His  sister  was  the  next.  "Tecumapease  lays  this  spray 
of  cypress  green,  on  the  heart  of  her  great  brother. 
Brother  of  all  stricken,  mourning  women.  Leader  of  the 
wronged  nations."  The  voice  of  the  twice  bereaved 
woman  was  clear  and  strong,  with  a  tone  of  sadness  but 
also  of  pride. 

Now  approached  the  child  of  Cheeseekau,  drooping 
and  sore  hearted.  She  paused  and  let  fall  the  blanket 
from  her  right  shoulder,  leaving  her  bare  arm  free  in  the 
moonbeams.  She  stood  a  moment  and  in  a  low,  sweet 
voice  spoke  :  "  Ah-ni-tah,  lonely  child  of  lost  Cheeseekau, 
lays  this  last  rose  on  the  head  of  her  uncle.  Summer 
held  it  for  this."  As  she  spoke,  she  bent  over  the  form, 
and  performed  the  act  with  touching  grace  and  tender 
ness.  She  arose,  and  as  if  suddenly  inspired,  she  threw 
up  both  hands,  thus  giving  her  slender  form  to  full  view, 
and  exclaimed  in  a  clear,  loud,  far-reaching  voice.  "Te- 


314  The  Torys  Daughter. 

cumseh,  lifter  up  of  the  hearts  of  the  nations, — mighty 
carrier  of  the  tribes  in  his  arms, — great  to  govern,  great 
to  lead  in  war,  never  conquered  in  battle,  farewell !  " 

Anita's  words  were  received  as  inspired  by  a  higher 
power.  As  she  threw  up  her  arms,  her  tall  form  lifting 
itself  above  her  ordinary  height,  and  sent  out  her  clear, 
ringing  voice,  she  seemed  a  priestess  touched  to  speak. 
The  whole  multitude,  the  circles,  the  innermost,  all  arose 
to  their  feet,  they  stood  a  few  seconds  after  her  voice 
ceased,  and  then  in  absolute  silence  sank  back  to  their 
places.  Earth  and  nature  said  farewell  to  the  dead  chief, 
in  the  voice  of  the  Great  Spirit,  by  this  his  favored  child. 
The  tribes  arose  as  they  recognized  it. 

The  procession  of  matrons  paused,  and  stood  until  the 
multitude  sank  to  the  ground  and  then  moved  forward. 

The  next  was  a  very  ancient  woman,  in  snow-white 
hair,  left  to  flow  and  shimmer  in  the  night  as  it  would. 
It  now  caught  the  moonlight,  and  throwing  it  off  seemed 
to  double  its  light,  forming  a  faint  silvery  halo  about  her 
head.  Pausing,  in  broken  accents  she  said : 

"  Hunter  for  sonless  mothers,  bringer  of  food  to  child 
less  fathers,  comforter  of  the  old  and  lonely,  this  I  offer ! " 
laying  daintily  prepared  food  by  the  chief's  hand. 

Another  cried  :  "  He  rescued  my  husband  from  the 
fire  kindled  by  the  Mingos." 

"  He  gave  his  horse  to  bear  my  wounded  son  from  the 
battle  and  led  the  enemy  away  from  his  trail,"  said  the 
next. 

So  one  after  another  bore  testimony,  telling  of  some 
act  of  kindness,  generosity,  or  some  deed  of  devotion,  by 
the  hand  of  the  fallen  chief. 

When  the  matrons  departed,  came  the  youths,  Bearing 
the  food  and  water.  Although  pagan  that  he  was,  Tecum- 


'  We  Buried  Him  Darkly  at  Dead  of  Night'     315 

seh  had  taught  that  these  contributions  were  silly  rites. 
The  Sacs,  the  Chippewas,  the  Sioux,  would  have  placed 
his  weapons  and  slain  horse  in  the  grave  by  him.  His 
family  and  friends  would  not  permit  it.  When  all  was 
done,  the  grand  form  was  lowered  to  the  couch  made  for 
it,  and  hidden  from  human  vision.  Large  timbers  were 
placed  about  and  over  it,  the  earth  packed  and  rammed 
hard  and  firm,  the  whole  reduced  to  the  original  level,  and 
dead  leaves  strewn  over  it  as  before,  while  the  displaced 
surplus  earth  was  carefully  removed  as  of  all  the  bury- 
ings. 

Then  the  chiefs  and  principal  mourners  bathed  their 
hands  and  faces  in  the  limpid  stream,  and  in  form  par 
took  of  food,  and  to  the  eye  resumed  their  wonted  air  of 
composure.  When  all  was  done,  the  moon  was  west 
ering. 

There  was  yet  another  and  a  different  rite  to  be  per 
formed,  no  less  important  to  the  immediate  parties. 

On  an  open  space  at  the  head  of  the  chief's  hidden 
grave  stood  Red-Wing,  with  his  uncle,  Black-Hawk,  and 
supported  by  the  western  chiefs  in  a  body.  A  group  of 
their  matrons  and  maidens  were  in  the  near  distance. 
To  those  in  the  foreground  came  the  Prophet,  leading 
Anita,  accompanied  by  her  aunts,  and  followed  by  her 
cousins,  while  Round-head  and  the  chiefs  of  the  Ohio 
and  Wabash  tribes,  with  their  wives  and  daughters,  came 
upon  the  ground  from  another  direction.  When  the 
principal  parties  were  thus  in  presence  of  each  other,  the 
Prophet  led  his  niece  forward,  her  head  and  face  to  the 
eyes  covered,  in  front  of  the  expectant  young  Sac  chief. 
He  said  : 

"  We  here  in  this  presence  give  our  daughter,  child  of 
lost  Cheeseekau,  to  Red-Wing,  nephew  of  Black-Hawk, 


316  The  Tory  s  Daughter. 

to  be  his  wife — this  let  our  brothers  witness  all.  See  it 
our  sisters  all." 

Red-Wing  took  a  single  step  forward,  extended  his 
hand  and  received  Anita's  hand  from  her  uncle,  who 
then  lifted  and  spread  abroad  his  hands,  with  upturned 
face,  seeming  in  silence  to  invoke  the  grace  of  the  Great 
Spirit  upon  the  heads  and  union  of  the  lovers. 

Red- Wing  turned  and  presented  his  bride  to  his  uncle. 
She  bent  her  head,  he  laid  his  hands  upon  it,  and  then 
taking  her  by  the  hand  presented  her  to  each  of  the 
chiefs  in  turn,  when  she  was  passed  into  the  more  effusive 
arms  of  the  matrons  and  maidens.  Very  soon  a  chosen 
number  of  these  last  led  her  away  for  some  rite  of  their 
own,  while  the  bridegroom  was  taken  possession  of  by 
the  young  men.  The  Prophet  explained  that  in  their 
present  fortunes,  the  death  of  the  child's  English  father, 
it  was  deemed  best  to  place  her  under  the  protection  of  a 
husband. 

Later  the  girls  returned  to  find  Red-Wing,  with  his 
favorite  white  pony  dappled  with  black  spots,  gayly 
tricked,  and  a  charger,  also  five  or  six  of  his  immediate 
friends,  holding  each  his  horse,  who  were  to  be  the  escort, 
awaiting  the  readiness  of  the  bride,  to  set  out  on  her 
return  to  Moravian  town.  She  was  to  remain  with  her 
adopted  sister,  under  the  protection  of  her  American 
friends,  until  the  present  darkness  resting  upon  the 
affairs  of  the  nations,  friends  of  both  parties,  should  dis 
sipate. 

Anita  soon  appeared,  was  placed  in  the  saddle,  her 
limbs  arrayed  for  horseback,  in  gayly  decked  garments 
given  her  by  the  Chippewa  chief's  daughter.  She  was 
soon  ready,  her  bridegroom  chief  gallantly  mounted  by 
her  side,  their  escort  in  place,  when  two  or  three  of  the 


'  We  Buried  Him  Darkly  at  Dead  of  Night.'     3 1 7 

leading  chiefs  who  were  in  council  in  the  earlier  part  of 
the  night,  approached  her. 

"  My  daughter  knows  the  straits  of  her  people  ?  "  said 
their  spokesman  to  her. 

"  I  do.  My  heart  bleeds  for  them.  Anita's  marriage 
does  not  draw  her  eyes  from  the  distress  of  her  sisters 
and  their  children.  So  far  away  and  so  little  food." 

"  My  daughter  is  wise.  What  counsels  she  ?  Old 
men  ask  her." 

"  Make  peace  with  General  Harrison.  It  will  be  easy. 
The  Americans  are  tired  of  the  war.  I  know  one  nearest 
General  Harrison,  the  lover  of  my  English  sister.  Tecum- 
seh  knew  and  loved  him.  He  saved  Tecumseh's  life  in 
battle.  They  will  fill  the  hungry  mouths  of  my  sisters 
and  their  children.  My  English  sister,  Edith,  will  buy 
bread  for  them.  Go  to  General  Harrison  in  the  morn 
ing.  You  will  be  safe  with  him.  This  is  the  only 
course." 

Sadly  and  effectively  this  slender  young  girl,  so  sud 
denly  called  to  leadership  by  the  divine  gift  dwelling  in 
her  family,  spoke  these  words. 

"  My  daughter  says  wise  words,"  were  the  responses  of 
her  auditors,  who  now  turned  away  to  the  council,  called 
to  a  final  decision  of  their  immediate  course. 

Then  the  cavalcade  moved  away  through  the  old  wood 
to  return  the  strangely  wedded  bride  to  her  stricken 
household. 

They  skirted  along  the  northern  margin  of  the  swamp, 
which  terminated  a  little  east  of  the  town,  passing  around 
this,  as  portions  of  the  pass  across  it  were  not  without 
difficulty,  even  to  Indian  horses.  Red-Wing  dismissed 
his  escort  at  the  margin  of  the  wood,  not  remote  from  the 


318  The  Tory's  Daughter. 

village,  then  unable  to  decide  whether  he  would  be  safe 
from  capture,  or  would  return  to  camp. 

With  his  bride  he  entered  the  town  in  the  gray  of  the 
chill  morning.  He  set  her  down  near  her  own  door. 
Her  maid,  her  companion  of  the  evening  before,  was 
abroad  gathering  fuel.  She  admitted  her,  and  conducted 
the  handsome  young  chief,  who  so  gallantly  rode  out  of 
the  forest  with  her  mistress,  to  a  place  where  for  the  time, 
he  and  his  horses  would  be  secure  until  Anita  should 
receive  Dudley's  protection  for  him. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

THE    LIFE    DRAMA. 

AS  surgery  was  then  understood  and  practised,  Mr. 
Grayson's  wound  was  necessarily  fatal  and 
within  a  day  or  two.  He  was  subjected  to  no  needless 
torture.  No  medical  edict  was  needed  to  assure  his 
daughter  of  his  hopeless  condition.  To  her  this  was  cer 
tain,  as  attended  by  Dudley  she  met  the  procession  bear 
ing  him  to  her  presence.  As  she  approached,  the  litter 
halted.  When  the  eyes  of  the  stricken  father  and 
stricken  daughter  met,  each  saw  that  the  other  knew  the 
hour  of  final  separation  was  at  hand.  To  Edith  it  was  in 
a  way  the  end  of  the  order  of  all  things.  For  her  he  had 
always  existed,  as  a  part  of  it,  an  important  part  of  provi 
dence.  She  had  never  thought  of  what  would  be  when  he 
ceased.  Suddenly,  with  no  premonition  save  a  formless 
dread,  that  seemed  to  attach  itself  to  another,  the  greater 
share  of  her  world  was  dissolving,  and  in  some  way  she 
was  called  to  survive  it. 

The  instances  were  rare  where  a  father  and  daughter 
had  been  so  much  to  each  other  as  these,  whose  ways 
were  to  part.  For  her  at  the  instant  the  whole  world 
seemed  about  to  pass  away.  A  gleam,  a  smile  of  his 
eyes,  restored  her  to  the  consciousness  of  the  actual  con 
ditions.  She  with  the  fragmentary  world  were  to  remain. 
Great  anguish  has  no  fitting  means  of  expression  beyond 


320  The  Torys  Daughter. 

that  of  the  lesser.  When  she  took  the  arm  of  her  silent 
lover  and  turned  back,  following  the  stricken  form,  so 
inexpressibly  dear  was  it,  now  sole  stay,  comfort,  and 
rest,  she  could  not  forbear  pressing  it,  clingingly,  equally 
blessed  in  giving  its  support. 

Soon  after  gaining  Edith's  temporary  residence  came 
the  surgeons  of  both  armies,  the  chaplains  of  both  gen 
erals.  The  first  found  their  work  useless,  the  second 
their  work  done. 

Dudley  was  temporarily  relieved  at  headquarters,  had 
authority  to  parole  and  make  use  of  any  of  the  prisoners 
who  might  be  willing  to  be  of  service.  More  than  could 
be  useful  tendered  themselves  to  him. 

It  had  been  anticipated  by  the  surgeons  that  Mr. 
Grayson  might  die  on  the  return  of  day,  instead  of 
which  he  seemed  to  rally  in  the  night,  and  perhaps  had 
the  methods  of  later  years  been  applied,  he  might  have 
recovered.  With  a  reawakening  of  strength,  his  mind 
was  called  into  activity.  It  seemed  to  have  gained  van 
tage-ground,  where,  in  a  backward  survey,  the  things  puz 
zling  and  incoherent  when  they  occurred,  fell  into  per 
spective  and  their  relations  revealed.  Devout  and  fer 
vent,  he  accepted  the  prevalent  notions  of  such  minds  of 
that  day,  that  the  affairs  of  men  were  ordered  and  super 
vised  not  by  any  broad  and  comprehensive  scheme,  but 
from  day  to  day  as  exigencies  arose,  by  the  immediate 
hand  of  God  directly,  and  that  while  men  were  the  direct 
and  unavoidable  instruments  of  accomplishing  moral 
purposes,  they  might  themselves  be  punished  for  the  parts 
they  thus  performed. 

He  had  a  clear  apprehension  of  the  supposed  source  of 
his  present  injury,  and  his  mind  busied  itself  with  it,  in 
its  relations  with  other  things  and  events. 


The  Life  Drama.  321 

"  To  me,"  he  said,  "  it  matters  little  whether  my  death 
is  caused  by  a  stray  shot  of  the  combatants,  or  was  sped 
by  the  hand  of  an  intended  assassin.  For  each  man  the 
earth  was  in  effect  created  on  the  day  of  his  birth.  For 
him  it  is  dissolved  in  the  hour  of  his  death.  An  accident 
dissolves  it,  as  certainly  as  a  purposed  slayer ;  the  casu 
alty  is  the  murderer.  A  man  might  prefer  to  reach  his 
end  by  natural  causes.  Are  not  all  causes  of  death  nat 
ural  causes  ?  Mine  most  so,  if  it  comes  from  the  hand  of 
one  employed  by  me  to  slay  others.  There  is  little  profit 
in  this  speculation." 

He  remained  silent  for  a  little  space.  "  In  that  event  it 
is  a  curious  instance  of  a  man's  unconscious  agency  in 
his  own  destruction.  You  remember  the  Huron  ? "  to 
Dudley.  "  Of  course  you  do.  You  saw  this  Indian  there, 
know  why  I  was  there.  Its  pretence  was  to  secure  sol 
diers  for  England ;  it  was  to  employ  the  benighted  creat 
ure  to  meet  and  murder  me  here,  on  the  remote  banks  of 
this  river.  No  matter — no  matter,  Edith,  child,  let  me 
follow  it  out.  I  must  think  the  main  purpose — the  larger 
was  God's  purpose.  I  was  merely  his  instrument.  For 
me  it  was  not  a  right  thing  to  do  probably, — not  that  it  is 
quite  certain, — so  while  doing  God's  work,  I  am  punished 
individually  for  doing  it. 

His  mind  lingered  on  this  as  if  satisfied  with  its  logic 
at  the  last,  and  then  it  took  up  another  strand  of  the  com 
plex  web  of  human  association.  "  How  curiously  runs 
the  thread  of  man's  life — at  least  so  it  seems  to  the  man 
himself,  when  he  disentangles  it  from  other  threads,  from 
the  sum  of  human  life  and  association,  sets  himself 
apart  as  I  may  now,  and  traces  the  influence  of  others 
— of  events  on  his  individual  life  and  fortune — becomes 
himself.a  principal  figure  in  the  drama  of  his  own  life — 


322  The  Torys  Daughter. 

a  part  of  the  great  ceaseless  drama  which  to  history  never 
begins  or  ends.  The  men,  the  events,  which  controlled 
his  life  and  destiny,  are  to  be  withdrawn  from  the  broad 
current  of  history,  and  so  arranged  that  their  influence 
on  him  is  brought  into  clear  light,  everything  else  to 
become  background  and  chorus  as  in  Greek  tragedy. 
Spectators  will  find  the  piece  dull." 

He  closed  his  eyes,  seemingly  to  give  time  for  the  men 
tal  segregation  of  which  he  spoke,  to  take  place.  "  I,  the 
smallest  atom  in  a  great  contest,  would  serve  my  king. 
Well,  it  turns  out  that  King  George,  the  Prince  Regent, 
President  Madison,  their  councils,  parliaments,  and  con 
gresses  were  really  but  conspirators  against  poor  small 
me.  The  old  rebellion,  the  minor  plots  of  all  the  years 
since  ;  your  father,  Philip  Dudley,"  to  Cliffton  , — "  You, 
my  child,"  to  Edith ; — "  our  meeting  you,"  to  Dudley. 
"  How  clear  in  this  colorless  light,  all  these  now  lie  in  my 
mind's  grasp ;  ending  as  all  tragedies  must,  in  death." 

The  voice  was  low,  clear,  exquisitely  sad,  as  if  the 
spirit  had  passed  from  its  shattered  tenement  and  lingered 
an  instant  for  a  hasty  retrospect  ere  final  departure. 

Edith  was  kneeling  by  his  couch,  resting  in  part  upon 
the  knees  of  Dudley.  The  voice,  its  summing  up,  the 
pictures  and  reminiscences  of  her  past,  with  the  pathos  of 
the  present,  united  to  renew  the  flow  of  her  tears  beyond 
her  control. 

"  My  poor,  poor  child,"  said  the  suffering  man,  placing 
his  hand  on  her  head.  "  That  was  the  pagan  in  me. 
Pagans  are  pessimists,  you  know — things  work  for  evil 
and  not  good.  God  overrules  our  evil,  though  we  suffer 
for  its  commission.  See  !  See  !  We  work  each  for  him 
self,  yet  altogether  on  the  lines  of  God's  great  enter 
prises,  unknowingly  doing  his  work  while  intending  to  do 


The  Life  Drama.  323 

our  own.  We  are  used  to  punish  others,  yet  in  so  doing 
commit  sins  for  which  in  time  we  suffer.  What  a  strange, 
inexplicable  scheme,  simple  and  clear  if  we  could  attain 
God's  view  of  it.  We  do  not  know  the  real  quality  of  our 
own  work,  or  whether  important  or  ignoble.  Are  there 
really  any  important  and  trivial  things  ?  Are  they  not 
after  all  of  the  same  size  ?  Well,  let  us  not  worry  these 
last  sands  away.  God  knows.  It  is  really  all  his  work, 
and  for  the  grand  come  out  he  is  responsible." 

Then  came  a  longer  pause.  He  had  not  yet  said  what 
was  in  his  mind  to  these  two. 

"  There  must  have  been  wrong  between  Philip  Dudley 
and  myself.  Not  on  his  part — mine,  by  my  not  knowing. 
I  may  have  been  in  fault  for  not  knowing.  I  thought  he 
plotted  my  destruction.  He  really  saved  my  life  at  the 
expense  of  his  own  honor.  As  it  then  looked  to  me,  he 
plundered  me  to  enrich  himself.  He  really  rescued  and 
saved  my  estate  for  me,  using  his  own  money  for  that  pur 
pose.  When  it  was  all  revealed  to  me  it  was  too  late  to 
rectify  anything  to  him.  I  learned  of  this  child  of  his, 
this  Cliffton;  I  could  not  find  him.  When  we  did  find  him 
he  repeated  his  father's  benefaction.  I  did  not  even  then 
see  how  much  I  needed  to  suffer  to  expiate  wrong,  partly 
from  blindness.  I  don't  know  the  extent  of  my  sin.  I 
had  to  be  re-educated.  Clear  as  his  father  once  stood  in 
my  love,  lovely  as  this  youth  stood  in  my  presence,  when 
it  came  to  me  that  he  had  been  educated  in  the  school  of 
the  hated  republic,  to  command  its  soldiers,  wore  its  uni 
form  as  an  officer  in  the  rebel  army — they  were  still 
rebels  to  me — I  would  have  given  the  world  had  you  two 
not  met.  He  wore  a  blue  coat ! 

"  It  was  not  in  nature,  in  God's  holy  law,  that  you  two 
should  meet  and  not  love.  And  I  would  sacrifice  this 


324  The   Tory's  Daughter. 

love  to  the  color  of  a  coat,  a  sentiment  of  clothes  and 
buttons  !  A  shadow,  as  it  now  seems.  I  deserved — I 
needed  punishment,  nothing  less  than  this.  I've  lived  to 
see  a  British  general  flee  like  a  coward  from  the  Ameri 
cans,  from  his  army,  his  honor,  and  on  British  soil.  I 
am  punished.  All  these  things  so  far  as  you,  my  child, 
are  concerned — " 

"  O  father !     I  pray  you,  I  implore  you — " 

"Only  a  little  more,  my  child.  The  compensation — 
the  come  out  of  all  this — the  end  of  my  drama,  is  your 
love,  happiness.  You  are  to  be  followed  by  others, 
springing  from  you,  reared  by  you,  in  a  new,  fresh  land, 
not  yet  polluted,  scarcely  stained  by  the  crimes  of  the  old. 
Our  older  mistakes,  sins,  have  worked  out  this  fruition  in 
God's  Way.  You  two — especially  Cliffton — have  been 
sorely  tried.  The  world  for  me  is  dissolving,  only  to 
be  renewed  and  glorified  for  you." 

He  closed  his  eyes  and  remained  silent  for  a  minute, 
and  without  opening  them  said,  "I  understand,  Cliffton, 
that  you  know  nothing  whatever  of  the  early  life — the  old 
time  relations  between  your  father  and  myself." 

"  Nothing  whatever.  I  know  little  of  his  early  life,  but 
don't,  I  beseech  you,  exhaust  your  remaining  strength  in 
recounting  this  history  to  me." 

"Within  a  few  months,  since  the  Maumee  days,  he 
wrote  out  a  complete  history — much  of  it  not  before 
known  to  me.  It  was  done  at  my  request,  so — so  that  if 
anything  happened,  I  could  show  it  to  you,  or  send  it  to 
you,"  said  Edith  to  Dudley ;  and  turning  to  her  father 
"  Shall  I  get  it  and  read  it  to  him,  Papa  ?  " 

"  Do,  my  child,  writing  it  was  the  only  pleasant  thing  of 
this  wretched,  wretched  summer." 

The  child  produced  and  read  it,  which  with  explana- 


The  Life  Drama.  325 

tions  and  incidental  talk  occupied  much  time,  with  occa 
sional  interruptions  of  the  two  hospital  nurses  in  attend 
ance.  An  abstract  of  portions  of  it  will  bring  some 
details  within  the  reader's  apprehension. 

It  is  to  be  understood,  that  the  Dudleys  and  Gray- 
sons  were  of  the  oldest  colonial  families  of  Boston.  The 
boys  of  the  same  age,  and  diverse  temperaments  which 
complemented  each  other.  Almost  more  than  brothers 
from  boyhood,  not  being  brothers  were  more  careful  of 
each  other's  feelings ;  were  school-  and  class-mates ; 
Were  almost  as  one  in  sentiment,  until  the  growing  differ-, 
ences  which  drove  the  colonies  to  separation  from  the 
Crown. 

From  the  first,  the  Graysons  were  pronounced  Loyalists, 
and  Edward  was  soon  the  leader  of  the  young  Tories. 
It  was  to  be  gathered  that  he  was  proud,  indomitable, 
intolerant.  His  friend  frank,  generous,  gay,  and  high- 
spirited.  He  was  also  imaginative  and  incapable  of  giv 
ing  pain;  in  heart  and  soul  a  patriot,  which  he  dissem 
bled  from  regard  for  his  friend.  A  rupture  came  early, 
forced  by  the  unaccommodating  temper  of  the  Loyalist. 
They  parted,  never  to  meet  save  as  foes.  Tears,  anguish, 
on  Dudley's  part;  scorn,  anger,  contempt,  on  Grayson's. 
The  separation  preceded  the  formal  revolt  of  the  colo 
nies  ;  was  as  radical  and  incurable.  Grayson  became  so 
obnoxious  that  he  was  with  others  proscribed,  and 
shipped  out  of  the  colony.  Later  he  was  by  name  in 
cluded  in  the  Massachusetts  Act  of  Confiscation,  that 
denounced  death  for  a  second  voluntary  return  to  the 
state.  He  came  a  second  time  for  his  bride  and  her  pro 
scribed  family.  He  was  arrested,  tried  and  condemned. 
His  former  friend  was  a  lover  of  his  affianced,  and  he 
believed  that  Dudley  caused  his  arrest.  He  escaped  by 


326  The  Torys  Daughter. 

unlooked-for  means.  His  promised  bride  and  her  family 
were  placed  in  his  reach,  and  he  thus  accomplished  the 
object  of  his  visit.  Years  of  war  followed.  After  it  was 
over,  Grayson  learned  that  Dudley  became  the  purchaser 
at  the  sale  of  his  confiscated  estates ;  very  considerable 
for  that  time.  Grayson  was  unfortunate  in  his  family. 
The  loss  of  his  wife,  and  all  but  the  youngest  of  his  chil 
dren,  sent  him  abroad  for  a  prolonged  residence.  He 
from  the  first  enjoyed  the  confidence  of  the  Crown  offi 
cers,  was  employed  in  important  positions,  was  liberally 
paid,  and  fortunate  in  his  investments. 

Years  elapsed.  The  bitterness  of  his  personal  wrongs 
lost  something  of  its  pungency,  though  his  hatreds  had 
lost  little  of  their  strength.  Finally,  in  London,  he  was 
overwhelmed  by  the  receipt  of  a  package  transmitted 
through  the  American  Embassy.  It  contained  sterling 
bills,  for  the  proceeds  of  the  confiscated  family  estates, 
of  which  he  was  now  sole  heir,  recently  re-sold,  with  an 
itemized  statement  of  costs  and  disbursements.  The 
property  had  been  held,  until  peace  and  renewed  pros 
perity  enchanced  its  value  tenfold. 

Stranger  yet,  he  also  received  in  authenticated  form, 
a  statement  of  the  real  facts  of  his  arrest  and  escape,  as 
well  as  of  the  escape  of  his  wife  and  her  family.  Dudley 
had  no  knowledge  of  his  arrest,  until  after  it  was  accom 
plished.  He  planned  and  executed  his  escape,  and 
placed  his  intended  wife  in  his  arms.  He  became  sus 
pected  of  complicity  in  this  affair,  and  resigned  his 
major's  commission  in  the  Massachusetts  troops,  made 
his  way  to  Washington's  headquarters,  and  enlisted  as 
a  private.  He  was  soon  commissioned,  his  ability,  dash 
ing  courage,  fine  person  and  address  carrying  him 
forward. 


The  Life  Drama.  327 

The  paper  also  contained  a  statement  of  Grayson's 
return  to  America.  The  attainder  remained  in  force 
against  him,  in  Boston,  and  he  dared  not  visit  his  native 
town.  He  learned  that  Dudley  was  dead,  as  was  his 
wife ;  that  he  left  a  son  with  his  wife's  family,  in  New 
York.  Her  family  name  his  agent  did  not  learn.  He 
caused  search  to  be  made  for  the  child,  but  got  no  trace 
of  it,  for  the  reason  as  he  supposed  when  he  wrote  his 
sketch,  that  the  child  was  known  by  the  mother's  family 
name,  and  not  by  his  father's. 

Then  followed  a  statement  of  his  fortune.  He  had  set 
apart  a  liberal  provision  for  his  adopted  daughter  Anita, 
and  divided  the  bulk  between  Edith  and  Cliffton.  There 
was  added  to  this  supplemental  matter  a  recapitulation 
of  the  events  set  out  in  the  opening  chapters  of  this  his 
tory. 

The  reading  greatly  affected  all  three.  Dudley  was  the 
most  moved.  He  said  he  had  always  felt  that  something 
had  been  kept  from  him,  by  his  mother's  family,  as  to  his 
father.  He  knew  there  was  something  connecting  him 
with  the  daughter  of  a  Loyalist,  which  brought  a  cloud 
upon  him,  and  that  he  became  alienated  from  Boston. 
All  these  early  trials  came  upon  his  father  when  he  was 
twenty-six,  his  own  age.  His  father,  as  he  understood, 
was  reputed  wealthy,  but  that  he  had  lost  his  entire  prop 
erty  and  lost  caste  with  his  wife's  family  in  consequence, 
as  he  supposed.  This  was  explained  to  him  now.  The 
Clifftons  were  Scotch,  and  thrifty,  but  he  himself  was 
supposed  to  have  inherited  his  father's  weakness — a  lack 
of  appreciation  of  money  values. 

"  A  royal  weakness  of  the  once  almost  royal  Dudleys  of 
that  glorious  Elizabethan  age,"  said  Mr.  Grayson.  "  In 
compensation  for  his  and  your  loss,  in  the  wise  economy 


328  The  Torys  Daughter. 

of  God,  this  gold  also  comes  to  your  hand,  with  at  least 
honest  usury." 

"I  wish  I  had  ten  thousand  dollars  now,"  said  the 
young  man  thoughtfully. 

"  For  what  ?  "  asked  Edith. 

"  To  buy  food  for  Tecumseh's  poor  Indians." 

"My  royal  Dudley!"  cried  the  girl  joyfully,  clasping 
and  kissing  his  hand. 

"  You  see  I  cannot  be  trusted  with  gold,"  he  said  to 
her  father. 

"  You  shall  have  your  way,"  was  the  reply.  "  I  do 
not  like  your  name  Cliffton  so  well  as  Dudley,"  he  added. 

"  O  I  do !  I  called  him  Cliff  the  second  day  I  saw 
him,"  said  Edith.  "  O  what  a  day  that  was  !  Our  day 
of  young  love,  that  we  did  not  know,"  said  Edith  in  a 
sad  ecstacy. 

"  You  blessed  Edith !  Yet  how  awfully  I  was  punished 
for  thinking  that  you  loved  me,"  was  Cliffton's  reply. 

"  Not  that,  Cliff,  but  for  assuming  that  unasked  I  had 
confessed  it.  Some  time  I  want  to  talk  all  that  over  with 
you." 

"What  precious  things  your  maiden  lips  will  tell  each 
other  of  your  virgin  hearts.  Poor  boy !  You  "  (to  Edith) 
"  wasted  a  kiss  on  his  hand,  when  his  unkissed  lips  were 
so  near,"  said  the  father,  almost  vivaciously. 

"Well,  his  lips  have  not  yet  had  a  chance,  "  said  the 
girl  in  a  regretful  small  voice.  Then  coloring,  she  ex 
claimed,  "  Surely !  surely !  we  cannot  think — O  father, 
we  forget  you  in  these  light  words." 

"  Let  me  have  it  to  tell  your  mother  that  I  saw  her 
daughter  and  Philip  Dudley's  son  join  their  lips  in  a  true 
lover's  kiss,"  he  said,  with  touching  solemnity. 

She  arose  to  her  feet  as  did  her  lover.     He  bent  to  her, 


The  Life  Drama.  329 

proffering  his  lips.  She  shyly  lifted  her  red  mouth  to 
them.  A  sob,  a  gush  of  tears,  were  inevitable.  An  arm 
went  up  around  his  neck,  and  for  a  moment  bliss  banished 
all  else  from  the  child's  heart.  Then  she  stood,  sustained 
by  his  arm,  her  head  resting  on  his  shoulder,  when  came 
again  her  father's  voice  speaking  in  weakness. 

"  Time  and  strength  pass  ;  one,  a  more  important  thing, 
I  must  report  to  all  the  departed,  the  rite  which  makes 
you  two  one." 

Edith  had  not  thought  of  this  as  an  immediate  thing, 
and  heard  his  words  with  a  half  scared  look. 

"  Surely  you  can  trust  me,"  said  Dudley,  assuringly 
to  her. 

"  I  do,  I  do  trust  you ;  it  shall  be  as  our  father  wishes," 
she  said  in  a  very  low  voice. 

The  night  passed.  With  the  next  day  came  Anita,  that 
sorely  tried  child  whose  strength  and  elasticity  of  form 
and  spirit  arose  with  fresh  vigor  to  the  demands  upon  her. 
This  stricken  household,  the  dearest  and  most  sheltered 
home  her  strange  life  of  wandering  had  ever  known, 
was  as  dear  to  her  heart  as  if  born  of  it ;  this  for  the  time 
was  her  place.  Her  marriage  though  hastily  entered  into 
was  not  lightly  assumed.  To  her  the  new  relation  was 
solemnly  made,  with  self-devotion  as  entire  and  unreserved 
as  the  heart  and  nature  *of  one  as  gifted  and  exalted 
as  was  hers,  are  capable  of.  She  was  one  never  to  be 
sunk  and  lost  in  another's  life  and  being,  but  herself  to  be 
and  remain  a  centre  attracting  others. 

For  the  time  her  adopted  sister  and  father  had  claims 
paramount  to  this  nearest  and  dearest  one,  whom  she 
gayly  put  by  for  the  time,  feeling  the  tonic  of  his  presence 
near  her.  She  did  not  forget  or  neglect  the  needs  of  her 
sorely  pressed  kindred.  She  knew  her  English  father,  as 


330  The  Torys  Daughter. 

she  called  him,  had  made  the  amplest  provision  for  her, 
and  if  he  lived  he  would  exert  himself  to  the  utmost  for 
them.  If  he  died,  Edith  and  herself  would  in  like  manner 
care  for  them,  and  she  had  the  most  entire  confidence 
in  Dudley. 

These  things  were  in  her  thoughts  as  she  rode  through 
the  moonlit  old  wood,  and  emerged  from  it  in  the  chill 
gray  of  the  morning.  She  should  hasten  to  Dudley  for 
her  husband.  Her  husband  !  she,  Anita,  had  a  husband ! 
What  a  property !  She  should  tell  her  romance  to  Edith 
at  the  first  possible  instant.  What  a  solace,  joy  it  was, 
buried  in  the  silent  depths  of  her  nature,  amid  the  dark 
ness  and  blood  that  rested  upon  and  flowed  over  her  kin 
dred  and  her  families  of  both  races. 

Edith  was  struck  with  the  sweet,  subdued  radiance  that 
seemed  to  illuminate  the  child's  face  child  no  longer,  as 
she  had  before  discovered,  save  in  the  mode  of  speech 
she  and  her  father  indulged  in  from  habit.  The  chance 
to  tell  Edith  of  the  happenings  beyond  the  gloomy  swamp, 
occurred  on  her  entering  the  house.  Dudley,  as  she  wished, 
was  present.  Both  had  lost  the  faculty  of  surprise.  At 
the  first  Edith  was  shocked.  Another  tie  was  dissolved. 
All  were  loosened  by  the  blow  which  prostrated  her 
father.  Dudley  thought  Anita's  marriage  the  most  natural 
thing  in  an  orderly  course  of  events.  He  requested  the 
pleased  girl  to  bring  in  her  chief.  Distressed,  distracted 
as  Edith  was,  she  knew  he  was  no  common  man.  The 
handsome  young  barbarian's  form  was  not  strange  to  her 
eyes ;  and  was  an  ample  excuse,  if  not  a  justification,  for 
her  sister's  act.  It  was  her  going  away,  going  back  to 
barbarism,  that  was  the  blow. 

Dudley  gladly  gave  him  assurance  of  safety  in  presence 
of  the  American  army,  whose  lines  were  a  little  later  ex- 


The  Life  Drama.  331 

tended  to  embrace  the  town,  for  police  purposes.  He 
placed  in  his  hand  a  written  pass  which  would  protect 
him  from  annoyance,  and  give  him  the  rights  of  a  priv 
ileged  visitor. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

THE  BRIDES. 

ABOUT  ten  that  forenoon  General  Harrison,  Com 
modore  Perry,  General  Cass,  Colonel  Warburton, 
Major  McLain,  and  one  or  two  others,  on  Dudley's  invita 
tion,  were  in  attendance.  Mr.  Grayson  wished  to  see  the 
American  commanders,  and  Dudley  conducted  them  to 
him.  He  said  to  them  that  he  felt  a  wish  to  see  men 
who  had  rendered  such  service  to  their  country.  Harri 
son,  with  the  sympathy  and  kindness  of  his  nature,  ex 
pressed  his  profound  regret  for  his  misfortune,  assured 
him  he  was  more  pained  by  this  incident  than  by  any 
other  casualty  of  the  affair.  Grayson  inquired  the  condi 
tion  of  Barclay,  and  Perry  was  able  to  report  him  as 
doing  well.  Mr.  Grayson  was  especially  interested  in  the 
frank,  modest,  rather  shy  young  sailor. 

The  bride  was  then  conducted  to  her  father's  side,  fol 
lowed  by  Anita,  and  her  stately  young  chief  ;  also  by  the 
noble  form  of  a  veiled  lady.  The  British  chaplain  was 
present  in  canonicals,  and  rendered  the  beautiful  marriage 
service  of  his  church.  The  dying  man  gave  away  the 
bride. 

No  one  of  the  party  had  ever  before  witnessed  nuptials 
so  impressively  celebrated  ;  no  one  had  witnessed  them 
under  similar  circumstances,  probably.  Dudley  led  his 
bride  apart  and  presented  the  American  guests.  General 

332 


The  Brides.  333 

Harrison  said  he  approached  her  as  a  veritable  heroine 
of  romance,  for  once  realized  in  actual  life,  something  of 
which  he  knew  from  the  hero  himself.  From  his  heart  he 
congratulated  Dudley,  who  was  worthy  of  his  rare  fortune. 
He  really  felt  for  once  to  congratulate  a  bride.  He  only 
hoped  she  would  not  withdraw  her  husband  from  his 
side. 

"  General  Harrison,"  she  said,  with  touching  sweetness, 
"  I  know  now  how  perilous  the  place  by  your  side  is.  I 
have  no  wish  to  withdraw  him  from  it.  I  am  an  Ameri 
can.  My  mother  was  one  ;  always  felt  herself  an  exile 
from  the  land  of  her  birth.  It  will  be  my  home.  I  hope 
to  be  worthy  of  it,  and  of  him,"  raising  her  eyes  to  her 
husband's  face,  with  tears  in  them.  Not  in  a  continuous 
speech  as  here  set  down  were  these  words  spoken,  nor  do 
I  report  all  this  conversation. 

Edith  then  spoke  for  the  unfortunate  Indians  ;  she  was 
certain  they  would  sue  for  peace,  and  she  hoped  to  be 
permitted  to  buy  food  for  them. 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Dudley,  if  anything  could  prove  my 
friend's  rare  fortune  in  winning  you,  it  is  this  thought  that 
at  this  hour,"  glancing  toward  her  father's  couch,  "  you 
should  plead  for  these  unfortunate  people.  I  am  very 
glad  to  assure  you  they  are  now  my  friends,  and  ample 
food  is  on  its  way  to  their  camp/' 

"  Oh,  father  !  "  cried  the  gratified  girl,  turning  back  to 
him,  "  do  you  hear  his  words  ? "  which  she  repeated  to 
him. 

"  Tell  General  Harrison  he  has  brought  the  greatest 
possible  solace  to  a  dying  man,"  he  said.  "  It  does 
much  to  reconcile  me  to  our  changed  fortunes." 

Then  Red-Wing  and  Anita  were  presented  to  the  Amer 
ican  general,  Anita  as  the  adopted  daughter  of  Mr.  Gray- 


334  The  Tory's  Daughter. 

son  and  niece  of  Tecumseh.  He  received  them  with  the 
utmost  kindness.  Anita  made  Red- Wing  say,  that  had  he 
known  General  Harrison,  he  might  not  have  joined  in  the 
war  against  him — a  free  rendering  of  his  words.  For 
herself,  she  said,  she  had  learned  much  of  him,  and  was 
sorry  he  and  her  uncle  were  ever  enemies. 

The  general  was  a  thorough  student  of  Indians.  He 
was  greatly  struck  by  this  daughter  of  the  race.  She  had 
been  moved  to  tears  by  his  kindness  to  her  people.  He 
was  glad  to  give  her  assurances  of  his  care  for  them,  and 
many  warm  words  for  her  personal  well-being.  He  should 
return  at  once  to  Detroit,  where  he  hoped  to  meet  her 
and  her  husband,  who  might  rely  on  his  good  offices. 
Then  with  leave-taking  the  general  and  his  officers  re 
turned  to  his  camp. 

Red-Wing  was  greatly  impressed  by  Edith's  marriage 
ceremony.  Anita  translated  its  liturgy.  He  expressed 
an  ardent  wish  to  be  married  by  the  same  service.  He 
thought  that  Anita,  educated,  and  an  English  woman  by 
adoption,  and  a  Christian  by  conversion,  should  be  mar 
ried  as  would  an  English  maiden  be — as  her  sister  had 
been.  Anita  was  charmed  with  the  idea,  and  very  much 
by  his  thoughtfulness  for  her.  Edith  and  Dudley  were 
consulted  and  cordially  concurred.  The  chaplain  on 
consideration  thought  it  proper,  and  consented  to  offi 
ciate.  At  two  that  afternoon  the  tender  and  impressive 
service  was  repeated  in  Mr.  Grayson's  presence,  and 
these  high  born  children  of  forest  and  plain  were  wed 
and  blessed  as  the  Christian  church  unites  in  marriage. 
In  reply — who  gives  this  woman  ?  the  dying  man  nodded  in 
reponse. 

It  was  one  of  his  last  intelligent  answers.  His  room 
was  then  declared  sacred  from  further  things  of  earth ; 


The  Brides.  335 

save  his  nurses,  the  American  chaplain  of  his  own  church, 
the  noiseless  footed  brides,  and  Dudley,  no  one  invaded 
its  sanctuary. 

As  the  ensuing  night  was  yielding  the  earth  to  the  arms 
of  another  day,  when  the  stars  were  recalling  their  rays, 
with  their  returning  beams  his  spirit  departed,  and  at  the 
sunfall  what  remained  was  for  the  time  committed  to  the 
keeping  of  the  earth,  on  thel  ovely  bank  of  the  Thames, 
near  the  resting-place  of  the  Moravians. 

The  army,  its  prisoners,  spoil,  and  trophies  started  the 
day  before  on  its  return  to  Detroit.  Among  the  things  of 
interest  taken  was  a  small  brass  three-pounder,  worn  and 
battered,  bearing  the  royal  arrow  of  Britain,  with  the  date 
1775.  On  lt  was  inscribed  "  Taken  at  Saratoga,  October 
17,  1777,"  to  which  had  been  added  "  Retaken  at  Detroit, 
August  16,  1812,"  now  to  be  supplemented  with — "  Recap 
tured  at  the  Thames,  October  5,  1813." 

The  Indians  also  moved  in  the  afternoon  of  the  same 
day.  With  them  went  proud  and  happy  Red-Wing,  the 
only  man  of  the  British  force,  white  or  red,  who  had  occa 
sion  to  be  glad  that  he  saw  the  Thames. 

The  fine  little  Ariel  with  her  four  short  i2's  and  gallant 
commander,  Packet,  which  with  the  other  light  vessels 
worked  up  the  river,  after  the  battle,  was  left  with  space 
for  Major  Dudley  and  his  party,  who  got  on  board  on 
the  morning  of  the  eighth.  With  a  clear  sky  of  serene 
blue,  sparkling  sunshine,  and  crisp  air,  they  swept  down 
past  the  battle-field,  along  the  now  silent  banks  of  the 
Thames,  which  so  lately  bore  the  fleeing  and  pursuing  foes 
in  the  panoply  of  war. 

Warburton  and  many  of  the  English  officers  were  of 
the  party,  the  colonel  having  charge  of  his  absent  gen 
eral's  wife  and  family.  The  Indian  bride,  piquant,  alert, 


336  The  Torys  Daughter. 

subdued  by  the  misfortunes  of  her  family  and  race,  yet 
feeling  the  play  of  the  abundant  energies  stored  in  her 
form,  which  she  had  been  taught  to  hold  in  the  subjec 
tion  of  the  daughters  of  the  highest  civilization,  her 
heart  full  of  her  gallant  chief,  and  conscious  of  the  added 
dignity  which  all  women  feel  from  marriage,  her 
thought  was  of  her  bridegroom  as  he  disappeared  from 
her  in  the  twilight  of  her  marriage  day,  riding  away  to 
join  his  band,  mounted  on  his  strong,  active  charger,  and 
attended  by  her  own  gayly  decked  pony,  her  husband's 
gift.  She  was  now  on  her  way  to  meet  him,  and  enter 
upon  her  new,  and  in  all  other  respects,  her  oldest  life  ; 
moving  gracefully  about,  with  the  air  of  a  newly  wedded 
princess,  married  according  to  the  ritual  of  an  ancient 
Christian  church.  This  greatly  pleased  her,  as  she 
reflected  that  she  was  married  by  the  same  ceremony 
and  observances  as  was  her  sister. 

Was  she  a  Christian  in  the  sense  that  Edith  was  ? 
Hardly,  as  we  estimate  children  of  a  thousand  years  of 
Christian  civilization ;  not  at  all  in  the  sense  of  a  radical 
change  in  the  wild  nature  of  a  savage.  A  slip  of  that 
wild  tree,  planted  in  no  matter  what  Christian  soil,  or 
with  what  care  pruned  and  cut,  will  grow  up  with  the 
essential  nature  of  its  parent  tree.  An  hundred  years, 
with  careful  tending  it  and  its  offspring,  would  be  essen 
tial  to  transform  that.  A  savage  bud  on  a  Christian 
stock  is  not  Christian.  A  Christian  slip  in  the  heathen 
trunk  cannot  change  the  stock  and  root.  Anita  identi 
fied  the  Great  Spirit  with  the  English  God,  which  was 
much,  showing  the  wide  kindred  of  all  the  races.  Jesus, 
whose  life  and  mission  were  of  the  deepest  and  tenderest 
interest,  and  for  whose  death  she  shed  tears  of  passion 
ate  sorrow,  was,  nevertheless,  not  so  much  her  Redeemer, 


The  Brides.  337 

save  as  she  became  English  by  her  adoption.  He  did 
not  come  to  her  native  people.  The  other  race  rejected 
and  slew  him.  That  was  matter  between  them  and  him. 
The  Indians  had  nothing  to  do  with  it,  never  heard  of  it 
for  thousands  of  years.  Had  he  come  to  them  they  cer 
tainly  had  not  tortured  and  slain  him.  She  was  certain 
she  was  Christian,  as  much  as  an  Indian  may  be.  She 
was  sad  at  the  thought  of  her  near  separation  from 
Edith.  Her  sister  did  not  now  need  her ;  she  had  this,  her 
own  young  chief ;  she,  Anita,  would  be  but  a  hindrance. 
She  was  born  to  a  different  life,  and  her  dark  eyes  went 
westward,  seeming  to  traverse  the  forest,  the  wid,e  blue 
lake  to  the  free  plains,  and  their  wilder,  freer  life  beneath 
the  sundown  skies,  beyond  her  present  horizon.  She 
would  carry  with  her  what  was  her  own,  gained  from  civ 
ilization.  She  would  have  many  things  to  teach  the 
women  of  her  new  people  and  her  husband.  Her  sons 
would  be  chiefs,  her  daughters  wives  of  warriors.  They 
should  be  told  of  all  the  life,  the  exquisite  pathos  of  the 
death  of  Jesus,  and  so  become  better,  truer,  and  ten 
derer. 

She  looked  up  into  the  still,  warm  sky,x  the  gold,  bright 
earth,  the  mass  of  bronze  and  buff,  the  soft  rich  brown 
of  the  still  apparelled  trees.  She  noted  that  the  water 
fowl  was  still  at  home  in  the  river  and  reedy  margins  of 
St.  Clair.  There  was  plenty  of  time  for  the  journey 
across  sandy  Michigan,  and  round  the  swampy  end  of 
the  lake  to  her  far  away  new  home.  There  would  be 
bright,  happy  days  under  all  the  shadows  ere  she 
departed.  Her  sister  was  never  so  dear,  so  beautiful  as 
now.  She  turned  from  the  lovely  outside  world  to  note 
the  tender  loveliness  of  her  face.  Her  beauty  had 
gained  in  ripened,  softened  sweetness,  gained  from  the 


338  The  Tory's  Daughter. 

suffering  of  these  latest  days  of  the  past  months,  and 
now,  secure  in  her  love  were  to  be  days  of  serene  rest, 
under  his  eyes,  his  arms  ever  near  her.  She  was  with 
her  all  the  night  after  her  father's  remains  had  been  con 
signed  to  earth ;  had  been  near  her  all  the  morning,  was 
now  only  just  out  of  the  reach  of  their  voices,  Dudley's 
and  hers,  as  they  remained  near  each  other  on  the  ship. 
Hers  was  the  love,  the  devotion  of  the  tamed,  wild  thing, 
for  her  whose  hand,  voice,  and  will  had  wrought  the 
charm,  the  willing  slavery.  Dudley  was  the  only  man  of 
Edith's  race  she  could  have  loved.  She  felt  with  a  true 
woman's  instinct,  that  he  of  right  was  the  chosen  of  her 
sister,  and  it  cost  her  nothing  to  guide  her  strong  liking 
into  its  truer  channels.  He  was  a  dear,  precious  brother, 
and  she  never  before  quite  comprehended  what  the  love 
of  a  sister  was.  She  loved  him  for  Edith's  sake  also. 
He  was  now  Edith's  husband,  and  so  her  brother  of 
right.  She  was  almost  as  blessed  in  Edith's  happiness 
as  in  the  wild  flavor  of  her  own.  It  was  because  Edith 
was  happy  that  she  would  abandon  herself  to  her  own. 
Was  Edith  alone,  she  would  have  remained  near  her. 

Edith  caught  some  words  of  the  group  of  captive 
officers  near,  that  this  was  one  of  Perry's  ships,  and  she 
felt  a  moment's  curiosity.  Dudley  conducted  the  two 
girls,  attended  by  the  courteous  Packet,  over  the  taut, 
well-appointed  schooner,  and  the  officer  explained  her 
position  in  the  battle,  marks  of  which  her  timbers  bore. 
Dudley  fancied  that  the  naval  battle  was  not  an  attrac 
tive  subject  to  Edith,  and  managed  to  make  her  excur 
sion  over  the  vessel  occupy  no  great  time.  He  led  the 
girls  to  pleasant  seats  on  the  sunny  side  of  the  ship, 
where,  when  his  slight  duties  permitted,  he  lingered. 
The  histories  of  the  young  ladies  were  known  to  those 


The  Brides.  339 

about  them,  as  well  as  the  latest  events  of  their  lives; 
and  they  were  the  objects  of  great  interest  during  the 
voyage,  though  for  the  most  part  left  to  the  society  of 
each  other,  and  the  care  of  the  fortunate  Dudley.  Edith 
was  at  the  first  not  inclined  to  talk.  For  Dudley  to  be 
near,  see  her,  feel  her  presence,  were  for  him  all  suffi 
cient.  He  had  more  words  with  Anita  than  with  her, 
during  the  early  hours  of  the  voyage.  Edith  had 
inherited  an  introspective  tendency  of  mind  from  her 
father.  Her  experience  for  these  many  months  had 
developed  it  to  a  mental  habit.  She  was  entering  upon 
a  new  existence.  The  boundary  line  separating  it  from 
the  old  was  traceable  under  her  eye.  She  saw  herself  a 
maiden  of  the  medieeval  ages,  set  apart,  dedicated  to  a 
cause  by  religious  enthusiasm  and  superstitions,  a  phan 
tom  cause.  She  now  saw  the  things  of  that  past  frayed 
and  faded ;  they  had  become  ghostly,  and  what  were  left 
were  buried  in  her  father's  grave,  himself  a  victim  of  the 
illusion ;  she,  now  standing  in  the  kindling  light  of  new 
life,  in  a  new  world,  glorified  by  perfect  love,  the  world 
of  wifely  duty  and  observance.  She  hardly  identified 
herself  with  the  high,  cold  maiden  before  the  Ohio  mis 
sion.  Of  all  that  past,  the  experience  of  the  last  two 
years  which  created  her  new  world,  left  nothing  but  a 
memory.  Two  years  ago  she  would  not  greatly  have 
cared  to  survive  her  father,  and  it  would  have  become 
her  duty  to  devote  herself  to  his  memory,  as  to  the  cause 
for  which  he  trained  her.  She  looked  into  the  river 
whose  tide  bore  her  returnlessly  away,  like  the  tide  of 
life,  flowing  ever  onward.  These  waters  would  never 
return  to  their  native  springs.  Did  the  fountain  hidden 
in  the  earth  mourn  their  departure  ?  She  was  wafted 
away.  It  was  the  law  of  life.  Her  father  fell  asleep  on 


34O  The   Torys  Daughter. 

the  banks  of  life's  great  river,  and  she  and  her  chosen 
were  swept  onward.  It  was  God's  law.  All  were  within 
his  arms.  By  and  by  they  all  would  drift  to  the  land 
and  find  the  lost  awaiting  them  there.  She  would  not  be 
sad  ;  another  took  sunshine  or  shadow  from  her.  She 
wanted  to  see  that  lovely  face  light  up  with  its  old  smile, 
break  into  its  old  mirthful  expression. 

Not  on  this  first  day  could  she  wholly  pass  from  the 
life  of  yesterday.  She  saw  herself  coming  out  of  its 
shadow,  and  wondered  what  manner  of  person  she  now 
was.  She  turned  to  her  lover  bridegroom  of  two  days, 
and  saw  he  was  still  uncertain  of  his  position  toward  her, 
only  sought  to  be  near  her. 

"Your  thought  is  with  the  past.  It  is  due  that  it 
should  be,"  he  said  tenderly. 

"Be  patient,  Cliffton,"  placing  her  hand  in  his  in  the 
twilight  gathering  about  them.  "Though  it  seems  trea 
son  to  my  father's  memory,  I  shall  be  all  smiles  again. 
I  shall  be  so  entirely  blessed  and  happy  in  your  love  that 
I  cannot  long  look  sad  if  I  try.  Be  patient  a  little  with 
me." 

"Be  patient!  why  think  how  little  of  your  voice  I  have 
heard,  how  rarely  I  have  ever  touched  your  hand.  I  can 
count  the  times.  Was  ever  a  man  so  blessed  who  had  so 
little  acquaintance  with  the  one,  in  a  way  compelled  to 
wed,  so — " 

"Compelled?  no,  no,  Cliff,  don't  say  that.  No  girl's 
heart  was  ever  more  entirely  given  than  mine,  my  will, 
my  pleasure,  were  to  be  wedded." 

"Bless  you!  bless  you!  and  yet — and  yet — may  I  say 
it?  I  am  so  much  a  stranger  I  hardly  dare  approach  you 
to  take  your  hand.  I  was  not  permitted  to  woo  you,  as 


The  Brides.  341 

I  so  gladly  would.  You  don't  know  me — the  bad,  the 
coarse  in  me,  and  I  am  in — well,  a  half  fear  of  you." 

"  In  fear  of  me  ?  how  strangely  that  sounds  !  " 

"  I  have  not  in  these  later  years  been  where  I  could 
see,  know,  and  associate  with  ladies ;  I  don't  know  them. 
Now,  my  fear  is  that  in  some  unknown  way  I  may 
wound  the  subtle  sense  of  delicacy  that  is  part  of 
woman's  nature,  the  sensitive  net-work  that  surrounds 
her,  and  I  may  lose  in  your  estimation." 

"  I  wonder  if  a  man  ever  made  such  a  confession 
before  ?  I  am  sure  we  may  trust  each  other."  And  in 
the  deepened  twilight  many  low  voiced  words  were 
spoken. 

"  And  do  you  know,  Cliff,"  she  later  said,  "  I  am  afraid 
there  must  be  some  hurt — a  sore  place  in  you — I  want  to 
search  it  out,  and  heal  it.  Tell  me  now  if  such  there  is, 
that  I  may  explain  it,  charm  it  away  now,  when  you1  love 
me  most,  hope  most  from  me." 

Gayly  the  young  bridegroom  passed  his  hands  over  his 
breast,  his  head,  and  limbs,  laughing.  "  I  declare !  a 
few  days  ago  I  was  sore  all  through,  but  do  you  know 
at  the  touch  of  your  hand,  at  the  sound  of  your  voice, 
saying  that  I  was  more  than  all,  dearest  of  all  to  you,  it 
was  like  the  touch,  the  voice,  of  the  priceless  One,  for 
giving  sin  and  making  whole."  The  voice  was  light  and 
gay  when  it  began.  It  had  a  tremolo  when  it  ceased. 

There  was  a  half  minute  of  silence,  the  stir  of  the 
deepest  emotion,  then  she  said — "  We  shall  have  all  the 
past — our  past  reconstructed  and  lived  over.  A  woman's 
life  is  in  the  heart,  the  heart  and  love  of  her  husband. 
There  must  be  nothing  left  to  spring  up  out  of  our  past. 
Black  River  is  all  sweet  and  precious.  The  Huron,  the 
Maumee — well,  in  the  near  future  there  is  nothing  in  my 


342  The  Torys  Daughter. 

heart,  in  my  thought,  that  I  will   not  gladly  have  you 
know.     I  want  you  to  know — know  it  all." 

They  had  passed  the  lower  sluggish,  sinuous  Thames. 
St.  Clair  was  found  still  agitated  by  the  tempest  of 
yesterday,  a  historic  storm.  Here  the  saucy  little 
schooner  spread  more  canvas,  and  went  flying  across 
her  southern  margin,  and  down  the  Detroit.  She  did 
not  stop  at  the  little  town  of  the  Strait.  Her  destiny 
was  Maiden. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

ANITA'S  LEAVE-TAKING. 

THE  sympathetic  Mrs.  Gordon  heard  of  her  friend's 
marriage,  the  one  ray  of  joy  in  the  blackness  that 
closed  over  Canada  West.  She  expected  her  return 
very  soon,  though  the  day  was  uncertain.  With  such 
means  as  she  had,  she  arranged  her  bridal  chamber.  In 
the  smaller  hours,  the  weary  and  overtaxed  sisters  came 
and  shared  it. 

The  next  morning  as  Anita  pulled  aside  the  heavy 
curtain  which  darkened  a  window,  and  looked  out  to  the 
well  advanced  day,  her  eyes  fell  on  the  statuesque  form 
of  her  wedded  lover,  tall  and  slender,  sashed  and 
feathered,  posing  in  unconscious  grace  in  a  place  com 
manding  a  view  of  the  house  where  she  was  lodged,  with 
his  gaze  on  another  part  of  it — eager,  as  she  saw  by 
the  flash  of  his  eyes.  He  knew  the  ship  had  arrived, 
and  hurried  to  the  house,  where  for  an  hour  ere  day 
broke,  his  eyes  had  bored  the  darker  walls  that  im 
prisoned  her  from  him.  He  had  not  now  long  to  wait 
ere  she  went  forth  to  greet  him  and  bless  his  eyes  with 
the  sight  of  her.  Two  or  three  words  she  had  with  him, 
and  she  conducted  him  within  the  house — the  Grayson 
residence. 

As  they  were  entering  it,  Anita  saw  old  Carter  standing 
near  the  doorway,  whom  she  had  not  met  since  the 

343 


344  The   Torys  Daughter. 

night  of  their  adventure  on  the  Maumee,  though  she 
knew  he  accompanied  Dudley  to  the  Thames,  and  was 
present  at  the  death  of  Tecumseh.  She  now  ran  to  him 
and  greeted  him  effusively. 

Red-Wing  and  he  recognized  each  other,  in  the  grim 
way  of  warrior  and  scout.  Anita  told  him  who  Red- 
Wing  was,  and  of  their  marriage,  which,  though  interest 
ing,  he  heard  with  silence  and  composure. 

"  I'se  a  lookin  fur  Major  Dudley.  Fs  tole  I  might 
fine  'im  round  'ere,"  he  said  finally. 

"  Well,  he  should  be  here.  I  do  not  know  where  he  is. 
The  truth  is,  Mr.  Carter,  there  are  two  very  bad  young 
men  who  should  be  here,  and  they  were  both  missing ; 
one  belongs  to  Edith,  and  the  other  to  me.  I  have 
captured  mine  you  see,"  laughing  and  showing  her 
teeth  at  her  best. 

"Yis,  'h'es  got  the  best  on't  though,"  a  little  grimly. 
'The  idee  that  such  a  gal  should  marry  an  Ingin  ! '  was 
in  his  mind.  "  Is  Miss  Grayson  in  'ere  ? "  he  asked. 

"  Mrs.  Dudley  you  mean,  Mr.  Carter." 

"  Yis  ;  I'se  glad  to  heer  o'  that.  I  knowed  purty  well 
'ow  that  ud  be,  ever  sin  that  air  time  on  Black  River." 

"  Oh,  so  did  I ;  we  are  glad  we  helped,  ain't  we,  Mr. 
Carter  ?  " 

"  I  done  w'at  I  could,"  said  the  old  man. 

"  I  know  you  did ;  and  she  is  grateful  and  loves  you 
for  it.  And  she  will  want  you  to  live  with  them.  She 
is  here  and  will  be  very  glad  to  see  you.  We  talked  of 
you  yesterday." 

"  Wai,  ef  she's  'ere,  the  major  ain't  fur  off,"  was  his 
answer. 

"  No  'e  ain't ! "  said  the  major  himself  in  Carter's 
manner,  and  just  then  near  enough  to  hear  his  words, 


Anita's  Leave-Taking.  345 

now  laughing  in  his  old  way.  He  greeted  Anita  warmly, 
asked  about  Edith,  shook  the  young  chief's  hand  with 
great  cordiality,  passed  his  hand  within  Carter's  arm, 
and  spite  of  his  reluctance  took  him  inside. 

Edith  arose  from  dreamless,  restoring  sleep.  Anita 
had  left  her  side.  Her  first  thought  was  of  her  bride 
groom  lover.  She  knew  he  was  not  remote  from  her. 
She  thought  of  her  father,  with  regret  for  herself  rather 
than  for  him.  Then  she  turned  for  brief  thanks,  grati 
tude,  and  prayer  for  grace,  as  her  custom  was.  The 
articles  for  her  toilet  were  arranged  the  night  before. 
Her  hands  were  deft  in  arraying  her  form,  her  heart  full 
of  love,  her  eyes  full  of  liquid  sensibility.  She  heard  his 
voice,  his  musical  laugh,  as  she  was  taking  a  hasty 
satisfied  survey  of  herself.  She  turned,  ran  down,  and 
electrified  him,  surrounded  as  he  was,  with  a  kiss,  fairly 
bestowed.  The  grace  thus  rendered  electrified  the 
admiring  chief  also.  He  murmured  something  to  which 
the  laughing  Anita  replied. 

"  What  does  he  say  ?"  asked  Edith,  her  face  full  of 
color. 

"That  I  was  married  like  an  English  girl,  and  should 
do  as  English  brides  do,"  she  answered,  in  a  tone  show 
ing  that  she  thought  his  remark  was  just. 

"  Well,  he  is  right.  I  am  sure  you  may  let  us  see  you 
render  him  his  dues." 

The  laughing  Anita  turned  to  the  young  chief  and 
kissed  his  lips  shyly  and  demurely.  He  received  it  with 
a  look  of  appreciation  and  thankfulness,  placing  his  arm 
about  her  waist,  as  Dudley  had  done. 

Mrs.  Gordon  entered  in  time  to  witness  the  morning 
rites. 

"  Well,  I  declare  !  "  she  cried.     "  If  boys  ever  deserved 


346  The  Torys  Daughter. 

it  they  do.  Poor  fellows ! "  laughing.  And  then 
gravely,— 

"  Oh,  these  have  been  sad  times  for  all  our  nuptials. 
Let  us  think  we  have  all  wisely  done  our  duty.  A  time 
for  rest  has  come,  no  matter  how,  to  us  all.  The  fault 
was  not  ours.  Let  us  pray  that  peace  may  come  ere  the 
spring  comes  again." 

She  had  an  unique  breakfast  party  that  morning. 
Carter. was  fully  determined  to  be  excused. 

"  I  raly  seldom  or  ever  eat  ennything  myself,"  he  was 
desperate  enough  to  say.  But  Edith,  who  had  taken  an 
immense  liking  to  him,  declared  that  henceforth  he  was 
to  be  a  part  of  her  household,  quite  won  him  to  an 
embarrassed  acquiescence  in  her  wish.  Red-Wing,  the 
forest  born  gentleman,  cool  and  collected,  was  quite  equal 
to  his  new  surroundings,  quick  and  alert,  with  Anita  by 
his  side.  Lieutenant  Gordon  also  made  his  appearance 
at  the  table. 

Some  things  may  be  disposed  of  finally,  and  a 
little  space  and  quiet  found  for  my  hastily  wed  Anglo- 
American  lovers  to  cultivate  each  other's  acquaintance, 
and  prepare  for  the  inevitable.  Art  may  not  require  it,  I 
trust  my  readers  will. 

There  was  joy  in  Detroit,  in  Michigan,  in  all  the  wide 
North-west.  Slow  as  were  the  currents  of  intelligence, 
news,  this  was  so  good,  so  precious,  so  like  a  message  of 
mercy  down  out  of  heaven,  that  it  took  wings  and  blew 
itself  "  in  every  eye."  Evil  tidings,  slander,  malignant 
lies,  never  propagated  themselves  with  greater  celerity. 
In  a  geographical  way  the  North-west  was  isolated.  That 
which  is  now  a  centre  and  seat  of  power  of  the  Republic, 
was  then  a  dim  outline,  cut  off  by  mountains  and  wide 


Anitas  Leave-Taking.  347 

sweeps  of  wilderness.  The  lakes,  instead  of  being  a 
highway  to  and  along  its  northern  borders  were  desert 
wastes  of  water,  hindrances  to  intercourse.  For  all  this 
vast  region,  the  war  was  over.  It  was  to  rage  for  fifteen 
months  along  the  lower  border,  the  Atlantic  coast,  in  the 
south-west  and  on  the  ocean.  Harrison  had  conquered  a 
real  peace  for  Michigan,  Ohio,  Kentucky,  Indiana,  and 
Illinois. 

Young  General  Cass  was  appointed  by  Harrison  civil 
and  military  governor  of  Michigan,  and  retained  his  brig 
ade  to  maintain  his  dignity  and  authority,  and  commence 
a  brilliant  career  in  the  civil  service,  which  was  only  to 
miss  the  highest  place  in  the  republic. 

The  "  Ariel  "  reached  Maiden  after  midnight  of  the 
eighth.  Two  days  later,  she  started  down  the  lake  carry 
ing  Mrs.  Proctor,  her  children  and  servants,  the  paroled 
officers,  Colonel  Warburton  and  his  subordinates.  Mrs. 
Gordon  and  her  husband,  now  able  to  travel,  also  sailed 
in  her.  A  sad  parting  it  was  to  the  tender  friends,  and 
as  each  anticipated,  a  final  one.  Each  had  her  young 
husband  and  no  parting  from  another  could  be  incon 
solable.  Another  awaited  Edith,  a  sorer  trial. 

Detroit,  the  region  around  both  sides  of  the  river,  was 
full  of  Indians,  without  clothes,  without  food,  abject. 
Harrison  treated  them  with  the  kindest  consideration. 
No  effort  was  made  to  secure  undue  advantages  and  ces 
sions  of  land  from  them.  All  he  required  was  peace, 
a  return  to  their  villages,  and  a  cultivation  of  good-will 
toward  their  white  neighbors.  He  was  told  of  the  mag 
nanimous  conduct  of  Tecumseh  toward  the  unfortunate 
inhabitants  of  Frenchtown,  which  he  fully  appreciated. 
He  had  a  personal  interview  with  the  Prophet,  which 
gave  him  a  more  favorable  impression  of  his  character. 


348  The   Torys  Daughter. 

On  the  morning  of  the  tenth,  Round-head,  Walk-in-the 
Water,  and  their  Wyandots,  left  for  the  Sandusky,  Black- 
Hoof  and  his  bands  undertaking  to  see  them  safely 
home. 

Harrison  saw  the  uselessness  of  attempting  to  deal 
with  Walk-in  the-Water,  for  slaying  Mr.  Grayson.  The 
chief  was  not  in  his  service,  nor  in  any  way  answerable 
to  him.  The  act  occurred  in  the  territory  of  a  foreign 
power.  It  was  a  time  of  war,  and  although  the  British 
had  laid  down  their  arms,  the  battle  was  raging  on  their 
right.  He  refused  to  see  the  chief  or  permit  him  to 
appear  in  the  general  council. 

The  Miamis,  with  Rouceville  and  the  warriors  beyond 
the  Wabash,  started  for  home  in  the  afternoon  of  the 
same  day.  With  these  went  Jim  Blue-Jacket,  and  all 
except  the  Sioux,  the  remote  Chippewas,  the  Sacs,  and 
Foxes,  who  were  to  move  the  morning  of  the  second  day 
later.  Their  journey  was  three  or  four  times  the  distance 
of  any  of  the  others,  their  preparation  more  extensive  and 
elaborate. 

With  them  would  go  Anita  and  Red-Wing.  They  had 
remained  guests  of  Dudley  and  Edith.  Everything  that 
could  be  done — that  their  means  of  transportation  en 
abled  them  to  carry  for  the  journey,  for  use  when  the 
young  wife  should  reach  her  husband's  lodge,  was  fur 
nished.  Remittances  in  the  future  were  also  provided 
for. 

General  Harrison  treated  the  chiefs  of  the  remoter 
nations  with  distinguished  consideration,  made  them  pres 
ents,  and  ample  provision  for  their  return.  Colonel  Ball, 
with  250  of  his  dragoons,  would  attend  them  to  Fort 
Dearborn,  with  part  of  a  regiment  of  infantry  who 
would  repair  and  for  the  time  occupy  that  post.  Dudley 


Anitas  Leave-Taking.  349 

presented  Red-Wing  a  finely  caparisoned  horse,  pistols, 
and  all  complete. 

Half  the  afternoon  of  the  last  day  the  daughter  of 
lost  Cheeseekau  went  about  silent,  a  little  nervous,  with  a 
peculiar  light  in  her  eyes.  Edith  two  or  three  times 
caUght  those  almost  wonderful  eyes,  wide  and  large  some 
said  for  her  face,  fixed  upon  her  with  an  expression  of 
sadness  that  disappeared  in  a  sweet  little  smile,  and  then 
she  would  turn  away.  She  who  had  made  a  study  of  the 
girl,  knew  her  thought  was  of  their  last  moment  on  to-mor 
row.  She  was  her  old  self  the  next  morning.  She  made 
her  appearance  arrayed  for  her  journey. 

The  Indian  army,  their  lodge  poles  and  covers,  all  the 
movables  of  a  body  or  rather  bodies  of  travelling  natives, 
with  their  horses  and  dogs,  their  women  and  children, 
moved  early  on  their  westward  returnless  journey. 

Anita  and  her  husband  would  be  accompanied  by 
Edith  and  Dudle)',  the  first  few  miles,  and  they  sent  their 
horses  over  to  the  American  side  the  night  before.  The 
morning  was  cloudless,  the  sky  and  earth  lit  up  with  a 
softened  splendor  of  light  and  warm  color. 

Anita  on  horseback  was  an  unique,  an  ideal  figure,  and 
never  more  striking  than  when  she  sat  her  gayly  capari 
soned  pony  this  morning.  Her  scarlet  hat,  with  its  war 
eagle  feathers,  her  closely  draped  upper  person,  rounded 
and  quite  perfected,  branching  to  exquisitely  formed 
shoulders  over  which  she  permitted  her  glossy  black  hair 
to  fall  unbound,  her  short  skirt,  and  perfectly  formed 
lower  limbs  from  the  knee  down,  shown  in  bright  closely 
fitting  garments,  with  her  slender  moccasined  feet  lightly 
touching  the  stirrups, — not  needed  for  one  trained  as  she 
had  been, — a  silken  sash  worn  over  her  right  shoulder  with 
her  ivory  hiked  dagger, — altogether  a  figure  to  ride  at  the 


The  Torys  Daughter. 

head  of  a  squadron  of  the  wild  horsemen  of  the  plains, 
toward  which  her  way  led. 

Edith  in  her  civilized  draping  was  scarcely  less  strik 
ing  ;  mounted  on  a  taller  horse,  which  equalized  her  seem 
ing  height,  the  two  contrasted,  and  each  helped  the  ad 
vantages  of  the  other.  The  brides  rode  in  advance,  fol 
lowed  by  their  husbands.  Red- Wing,  in  the  gay  trap 
pings  of  a  young  chief,  on  his  return  with  his  bride,  was 
in  excellent  spirits.  If  there  was  in  his  finely  wrought 
nature  anywhere  now  a  tint  of  sadness  or  regret,  it  was 
sympathetic  for  the  hidden  sorrow  of  his  wife.  For  the 
present  the  eyes  and  thought  of  each  of  these  fortunate 
youths  was  filled  with  the  form  just  before  him,  which 
was  every  half  minute  flashing  back  eyes  and  face  to 
gladden  him  with  the  light  of  her  beauty. 

Rare  and  rarely  blessed  young  men,  permitted  to  fol 
low  these  so  tenderly  attached  young  women  to  the  near 
final  parting,  where  each  shall  receive  his  own  from  the 
arms  of  the  other !  Is  there  a  more  blessed  privilege  of 
love  than  its  right  of  consoling  the  loved  ? 

The  girls  wisely  had,  as  they  thought,  their  real  parting 
the  night  before,  said  their  final  words,  taking  last 
embraces,  shed  their  tears  and  then  turned  each  to  the 
eager  arms  of  her  husband.  They  were  to  ride  forth  to 
the  parting  of  the  ways  this  morning,  and  were  to  wave 
each  other  good-by  kisses,  gayly,  from  the  hand,  and  so 
they  rode  out,  and  were  gay  and  bright,  talked  and 
laughed,  let  the  morning  have  the  music  of  their  voices  as 
if  no  fountain  of  tears  could  exist  in  either  of  the  light 
soft  swaying  forms.  The  young  men  shared  their  moods. 
They  had  little  to  say  to  each  other,  and  had  to  call  the 
aid  of  Anita  to  say  that  little.  Neither  was  essential  to 
the  other.  Red- Wing  had  complemented  Dudley's  pres- 


Anitas  Leave-Taking.  351 

ent,  by  the  gift  of  his  war  horse,  with  its  trappings.  The 
young  man  was  not  yet  a  full  master  of  all  the  horse's 
wild  ways,  and  found  some  employment  in  his  mere 
movement  and  in  humoring  himself  to  them. 

At  length  Anita  became  silent,  with  her  eyes  looking 
forward.  She  spoke  not  a  word.  Edith  said  two  or  three 
little  things,  essayed  to  sing  parts  of  two  or  three  little 
airs,  and  then  amused  herself  with  cutting  the  bright 
autumn  leaves  within  reach  of  her  whip,  as  she  passed. 
They  had  ridden  an  hour,  over  the  level  plain,  along  the 
dry  sandy  trail,  the  rear  of  the  ever  receding  western  fac 
ing  column  in  sight. 

At  length,  upon  the  margin  of  a  shallow  little  spring 
run  which  crossed  the  track,  the  Indian  girl  drew  her 
rein,  sprang  from  her  saddle,  and  turned  back  to  Dudley. 
The  eyes  of  the  expectant  young  men  were  upon  her,  and 
both  stepped  to  the  ground,  the  chief  leading  his  horse 
forward.  As  she  approached  him  Dudley  received  her  in 
his  arms,  she  threw  hers  about  his  neck,  pressed  her  lips 
upon  each  cheek,  ran  back,  took  Edith  from  her  saddle 
and  pressed  her  with  a  passionate  cry  of  pain  to  her 
heart — again  and  again,  with  sobs  and  cries  of  anguish 
she  pressed  her — kissing  lips,  and  cheeks,  and  brow,  and 
eyes.  For  a  minute  or  two  there  was  an  utter  abandon 
ment  to  sorrow.  Then  suddenly  controlling  herself,  she 
placed  the  overcome  woman  in  the  arms  of  the  waiting 
Dudley,  turned,  vaulted  into  her  saddle,  cast  her  face 
down  into  her  hands,  with  a  sharp  call  to  her  horse, 
which  leaping  the  stream,  flew  with  her  after  the  dis 
appearing  rear  guard.  Red-Wing  had  to  put  his  mettled 
steed  to  full  speed  ere  he  overtook,  and  gathered  up  her 
abandoned  rein.  The  child  never  raised  her  face,  nor 
threw  a  glance  backward ;  nor  did  Edith  cast  a  look  after 


352  The   Tory's  Daughter. 

her  vanishing  form.  Holding  her  gently,  the  eyes  of 
Dudley  followed  that,  until  streaming  hair  and  dancing 
plume  were  lost  in  a  turn  of  the  trail. 

This  was  the  leave-taking  of  the  Shawanoe's  daughter. 
In  the  coming  years  did  Dudley  and  Edith  visit  her 
beyond  the  Great  Lake  ?  We  know  they  did. 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 

HOMEWARD. 

EDITH  was  entirely  overcome  by  the  passionate 
outburst  of  Anita's  grief,  which  took  her  by  sur 
prise.  She  had  not  correctly  estimated  the  strength  of 
the  band  which  united  them  nor  the  pain  .of  breaking  it, 
until  it  was  torn  asunder  in  this  last  moment  by  her  sister. 
Perhaps  this  was  requisite  to  a  true  apprehension  of  the 
real  position  the  child,  unconsciously  to  her,  occupied  in 
her  heart.  Dudley  purposely  retained  her  in  his  arms 
until  the  space  within  vision  had  lost  the  voiceless  form. 
When  the  obtruding  forest  hid  it,  he  tenderly  conducted 
her  back  to  a  little  recess  in  the  small  trees  bordering  the 
trail,  led  her  horse  to  her  side,  placed  her  in  the  saddle, 
and  mounting  his  own  they  moved  on  their  return  home. 

"  Oh,  Cliffton,  your  wife  is  such  a  poor  weak  child,  her 
heart  has  been  so  broken  and  torn.  How  would  she 
have  lived  through  it  all  were  it  not  for  you  ?  How  can  I 
ever  sufficiently  thank  God  for  you  ? " 

"  She  has  been  so  tried.  Never  a  precious  girl  so 
much  so,"  he  said  with  a  caress.  "What  she  calls  her 
weakness  is  her  noblest  woman's  strength.  It  seems  I 
fell  in  love  with  a  high,  proud  heroine.  There  came  to 
my  arms  a  tender,  loving  woman." 

These  words  were  said  as  she  would  have  had  them. 
A  look  of  tender  gratitude  through  her  tears  was  his 

353 


354  The   Tory  s  Daughter. 

reward.  A  little  later  her  eyes  cast  downward,  she  said, 
"  I  shall  deserve  these  words."  Then  raising  them  to  his 
face  she  went  on,  "  Do  you  remember  when  you  made 
that  strange  speech  to  me,  on  the  "  Ariel,"  I  told  you  that 
whatever  you  said,  whatever  you  did,  would  be  wisest — 
best?" 

They  rode  silently  and  slowly  for  many  minutes,  her 
thoughts  turning  to — pursuing — her  flying  sister.  His,  as 
his  eyes  filled,  with  her.  Then  she  trusted  her  voice  to 
speak  of  the  lost  one. 

"There  never  was — never  will  be  such  another.  The 
utmost  possibilities  of  her  race,  were  her  wonderful  family. 
She  found  a  new  side  of  me  and  struck  her  roots  and 
tendrils  all  through  me,  and  when  she  tore  herself —  " 
Her  voice  broke  and  her  head  went  down —  "  And  there 
was  that  exquisite  flavor  of  the  woods  in  all  she  did,  in 
all  her  ways."  She  raised  her  head,  and  let  her  vision 
sweep  off  over  the  tops  of  the  scattered  wide  branched 
oaks,  seeing  nothing,  but  trying  to  call  in  her  thoughts, 
which  were  yet  too  nearly  akin  to  feeling.  "  I  had  such 
funny  notions  of  being  set  apart  when  she  came  to  us, 
and  as  the  strong  elements  of  her  nature  made  themselves 
felt,  she  should  be  set  apart  too.  Lovers — husbands 
— were  not  to  be  thought  of.  I  think  she  understood  me 
better  than  I  did,  so  free  and  natural  had  been  her  life 
and  dreams,  which  girls'  thoughts  often  are.  The  study 
of  me,  my  position  toward  you,  led  her  to  think  of  lovers 
of  her  own,  if  a  girl  needs  leading  in  that  direction  before 
a  lover  comes.  There  were  a  score  of  young  chiefs 
about  her  all  the  last  year,"  looking  off.  "Then  came 
this  young  prince  from  under  our  sundown,  and — 
well,  she  is  gone."  These  last  words  cost  her  an  effort, 
but  she  said  them.  "  It  is  best  for  her,  best  for  her  race, 


Homeward.  355 

She  will  be  a  great  woman,  an  uncrowned  queen,  ruling 
in  wisdom  and  prudence.  Tecumapease  is  a  great  woman  ; 
Anita  will  be  greater.  She  is  educated,  knows  something 
of  the  world,  of  the  modern  nations,  has  a  wider  out 
look." 

Then  she  told  of  her  family,  the  early  loss  of  the  father, 
the  mother,  a  wise  woman — of  Cheeseekau,  his  tutelage 
of  Tecumseh,  the  tragedy  of  his  early  death,  by  which  he 
gained  the  lone  title — "The  Lost."  Then  passing  to 
Tecumseh  she  told  the  incident  of  his  speech  to  the 
chiefs,  and  the  delivery  of  his  sword  on  the  margin  of  the 
swamp,  and  eve  of  the  battle.  She  said  in  reply  to  his 
questions,  that  the  wife  of  the  chief  was  a  very  common 
place  woman,  and  the  son  a  youth  of  no  promise.  Re 
suming  her  talk  of  the  incidents  of  the  day  of  battle, 
learned  from  Anita,  she  said  she  knew  of  his  own  part 
at  the  death  of  Tecumseh. 

And  then  she  insisted  he  should  tell  her  of  his  personal 
experience  in  the  battle  itself,  which  he  did,  giving  her  in 
modest,  graphic  words  a  fair  account  of  himself. 

As  she  looked  at  the  slender,  erect,  lithe  form,  broad  of 
shoulders,  and  pictured  the  now  tender  laughing  eyes, 
flashing  with  battle  ardor,  riding  at  the  head  of  the  on- 
rushing  column  of  shouting  Kentuckians,  directly  on  the 
muzzles  of  Tecumseh's  warriors,  her  face  blanched,  she 
hastily  sketched  her  vision  in  words. 

"  Oh,  what  a  wonder  you  escaped  !  God  spared  you  in 
mercy  to  me.  Tell  me  what  you  thought  of  in  the  minute 
or  two,  after  passing  the  small  swamp,  before  you  received 
the  fire  ?  " 

"  Well,   there   was   no   clear    thought — a  wild    rush, 
trampling   horses,  yelling  men,  a  rush  of  feeling.     We 


356  The  Torys  Daughter. 

were  going  for  Tecumseh's  warriors,  would  be  upon  them 
— that  was  about  all." 

"  No  fear  of  death — apprehension  ?  " 

"  Oh,  well,  men  have  that,  I  suppose,  above  the  average 
brute,  when  he  approaches  a  battle.  It  was  all  one  with 
us,  when  we  were  fairly  under  motion,  the  bugle  tanging 
in  our  ears." 

"  Did  you  think  of  nothing,  remember  nothing,  see  no 
inner  thing  ?  " 

"  Oh,"  laughing,  "  one  thing  was  always  with  me.  I  saw 
the  most  beautiful,  the  most  scornful  face,  wearing  the  ex 
pression  of  that  tent  scene,""  looking  toward  her,  and 
laughing. 

"  Oh,  you  did  ?     Oh,  Cliffton,  is  it  true  ?     Is  it  true  ? " 

"It  was  always  with  me." 

"  And  you  thought —  ?  "  pausing. 

"  Well,"  laughing,  "  death  was  not  to  be  avoided." 

"  Cliffton  !  It  was  not  that  which  sent  you  to  lead  that 
rushing  column  ? " 

"  No.  Had  I  known  what  I  now  know,  I  should  have 
gone  all  the  same.  I  should  have  thought,  perhaps  Edith 
will  know  I  am  not  unworthy  her  love." 

"  And  you  did  think — Oh,  you  did  think — what  ?  " 
eagerly. 

"  Well,  something,  a  little — perhaps  she  may  hear  that 
he  knew  how  to  die  as  a  soldier  should." 

"  Oh,  Cliffton  !  These  words  reveal  all  to  me.  I  am 
glad  to  know  it — to  know  how  much  I  owe  you." 

rt  It  seemed  a  little  grievous,  then,  "  he  said,  laughing 
again  in  his  old  bright  way.  "  I  am  glad  it  all  happened 
as  it  did.  It  brings  out  all  the  hidden  things  of  your 
nature — Oh,  Lord  !  what  a  speech  !  "  he  said,  interrupt- 


Homeward.  357 

ing  himself.  "  I'm  what  Home  once  called  me,  I  do  be 
lieve,"  laughing  again. 

"  Home  !  what  did  he  call  you  ?  " 

"  A  prig — he  said  '  a  damn'd  prig.'  It  was  not  in 
tended  for  my  ear,  so  I  did  not  hear  it — until  now," 
laughing  pleasantly. 

"  Well,  never  mind  Home — go  on,  finish  what  you  were 
going  to  say." 

"  Well,  merely,  that  you  were  all  the  time  nearer  and 
dearer  to  me,  for  my  having  not  read  you  truly  at  first." 

"  Did  I  never  appear  to  you  in  another  light  ?  " 

"Oh,  before  that  time,  you.  were  in  the  light  of  dear 
Black  River  days." 

"When  did  you  begin  to  love  me,  Cliff  ? "  in  a  delicious 
confidential  voice. 

"  When  I  first  saw  you." 

"  Oh !  Oh  !  when  did  you  know  you  loved  me,  I 
mean  ? " 

"  The  very  next  day — before  noon." 

"  Oh,  you  did  ?  Had  you  loved  so  much,  you  knew  it 
right  off  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  had  a  boy's,  a  young  man's  fancies.  I  knew  this 
was  love,  it  was  so  different,  so  deep,  so  high,  so  stimu 
lating  to  do  and  try  to  deserve." 

She  looked  up  in  his  eyes,  as  if  she  would  gladly  cast 
herself  into  his  arms.  She  said— "Oh,  Cliff  !  This  has 
been  the  saddest,  dearest  morning  !  I  am  so  glad  to  have 
had  it — I  am  only  learning  something  of  you.  I  must 
learn  some  things  now.  Nobody  knows  anything  of  you 
but  dear  old  Carter." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  call  him  '  dear  old  Carter ' — I 
am  so  glad  you  want  to  keep  him  with  us,"  he  said. 

"  I  do  love  him.     I  mean  to  keep  him.     I  am  going  to 


358  The   Torys  Daughter. 

talk  with  him.  Then  there  is  a  little  place  I  am  going 
to  take  you  to,  just  as  soon  as  General  Harrison  spares 
you  to  me,  and  to  yourself.  There,  don't  say  a  word." 
Then  raising  her  bridle  hand,  her  trained  horse  dashed  off 
in  a  light,  billowy  gallop,  emulated  by  the  trained  Indian 
war  horse. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

CARTER  TALKS. 

EDITH  had  more  time  on  her  hands  than  she  cared 
to  consume  alone.  Dudley  was  still  very  busy  at 
headquarters,  where  for  the  time  his  chief  could  not 
dispense  with  his  services,  and  Edith  cultivated  Carter, 
who,  from  shyness  and  diffidence,  became  communicative, 
under  the  skill  and  delicacy  of  her  approaches.  She 
found  him  a  gentle,  tender  soul,  with  an  unsunned  nature, 
having  a  good  deal  of  information  upon  the  one  absorb 
ing  object  of  interest  to  her.  She  led  him  to  talk  of  her 
husband,  the  afternoon  of  Anita's  departure,  a  subject 
of  quite  as  much  interest  to  him  as  to  her. 

"  You  see,  Mr.  Carter,  I  really  do  not  know  much  of 
my  husband  ;  he  don't  talk  of  himself,  and  I  don't  know 
any  one  who  knows  him  nearly  so  well  as  you  do. 
You've  been  with  him  alone  in  his  careless  hours,  as  on 
the  march  and  elsewhere." 

"  'E  ain't  much  uv  a  hand  to  talk  'bout  'imself,"  said 
the  old  hunter,  reflectively. 

tc  No,  and  I  don't  yet  have  much  of  his  time,  and  then 
he  does  not  want  to  talk  of  himself,  and  I  do  not  know 
what  to  ask  him  about." 

"Wai,  you  jes  start  'im  on  things  we're  you  'r  con- 
sarned,  an  'el  talk  fast  enuff." 

"  O — h  !  That  will  bring  him  out — will  it  ?  "  greatly 
pleased. 

359 


360  The   Torys  Daughter. 

"  I  never  seen  a  young  feller  sick  'o  talkin'  'bout  'is 

gal" 

"  Did  you  ever  have  a  girl,  Mr.  Carter  ? " 

"  Who — me  have  a  gal  ?  Oh,  I  was  allus  in  the  woods, 
and  kind  o'  shy  like,"  he  answered,  grinning  grimly. 

"You  take  a  good  deal  of  interest  though,  in  the 
likings  of  young  men  and  women  for  each  other  ?  " 

"Sartin,  sartin.  I  allus  wanted  to  see  'em  true  and 
git  to  have  one  anuther,  uv  course." 

"  Well,  when  did  you  fancy  that  Cliff  and  I  liked  each 
other  ? " 

"  The  fust  time  I  seen  ye." 

"  Tell  me  about  it — what  you  thought  ?  " 

"  Wai,  'e  was  a  helpin'  yer  pa  up  the  side  'ill,  an'  you 
was  a  lookin  up  in  'is  face  like." 

"  Yes,  I  remember  it  very  well.  What  was  Cliff 
doing?" 

"Wai,  'e  was  a  lookin'  down  inter  yourn,  mosely.  I 
didn't  see  'im  do  much  else  long  them  air  times." 

"Well,"  laughing,  "he  did  do  a  good  deal  of  that  I 
am  very  certain,"  the  lovely  color  growing  lovelier  in 
her  face. 

"  Thinks  I  to  myself — thinks  I,  young  woman,  ef  ye 
wants  a  young  man,  'ere  'e  is." 

Edith  laughed  with  genuine  mirthfulness.  "What  a 
dear,  funny  old  hunter!  I  wasn't  thinking  of  wanting  a 
young  man  at  all,  then.  I  was  only  so  glad  for  his 
saving  an  old  one — my  father." 

"  Mebby  so.  'E  may  a  got  inter  yer  'art,  without  yer 
thinkin'  on't  a'  tall.  I  ruther  guess  tho,  ye  thought  on 
'im  purty  soon — that's  my  idee." 

"  What  makes  you  think  so  ?  " 

"  Ye  asks  questions,  'n  I'll — an'  I'll  have  to  answer 


Carter    Talks.  361 

'em  well's  I  can.  I'le  bet  'e  thought  'o  you  that  night, 
by  the  way  'e  looked  at  you." 

"  Did  he  say  anything  ?  "  asked  the  deeply  interested 
girl. 

"  Mose  fellers  so  reddy  to  laf  is  reddy  to  talk.  'E 
ain't  one  'o  them  sort.  Enny  one  could  a  tole  w'at  'e 
thought." 

"  Well,  I  asked  you  what  made  you  think  I  must  have 
thought  of  him,  as  my  lover  ?  " 

"  Wai,  I  spose  a  feller  'oo  thought  as  much  uv  a  gal  as 
'e  did  'o  you,  would  let  'er  see  it,  an'  know  it,  purty  soon. 
An'  enny  gal  would  be  glad  to  like  'im  back,  sartin 
shure." 

Edith's  laughter  at  this  speech  was  delicious  to  hear. 
"  What  a  dear,  delightful,  logical  old  hunter  you  are  ! 
You  are  too  funny  for  this  world.  So  you  think  any  girl 
would  like  Cliffton  ?  " 

"Ef 'e  liked  her." 

"  Did  you  ever  see  him  anywhere,  where  young  ladies 
were  present  ? " 

"  No  'en  I  'ardly  ever  seen  a  young  lady." 

"  When  did  you  first  see  him  ?  " 

"  'Bout  three  year  ago,  or  a  leetle  better.  'E  was  to 
Cleveland,  fixin  a  block  'ouse.  'E  was  to  my  bruther's 
tavern  there." 

"  That  was  three  years  ago — when  next  did  you  see 
him  ?  " 

"Wai,  my  bruther  Lorenzo  's  a  hunter,  an'  Major 
Dudley,  'e  's  Captin  then,  wanted  to  hunt,  'n  so  'twas 
'greed  on  that  'e  should  cum  the  nex  year,  'n  'e  cum,  so 
we  fixed  on  Lorenzo's  oie  campin'  place,  you  see,  on 
Black  River." 

"  So  I  am  indebted  to  your  brother  after  all,  for  meet- 


362  The  Tory's  Daughter. 

ing  my  husband  !  How  strange  things  so  remote,  should 
be  the  hinges  of  our  fortunes  !  "  She  paused  to  think  of 
it.  "  Now  let  us  come  back,"  she  said.  "  You  thought 
he  loved  me,  and  I  should  like  him  when  I  found  it  out 
— how  is  that  ?  " 

"  Wai,  I  dunno  as  findin'  out  has  much  hand  in  't  after 
all.  I  think  them  as  God  means  to  jine,  loves  soon  as 
they  see's  one  anuther.  Them's  my  idees." 

"  And  you  think  God  meant  to  join  us  as  husband  and 
wife  ? "  much  moved. 

"  I  sartin  do.  That  's  wat  'e  wus  in  the  woods  there 
fer,  an'  that  's  wat  you  cum  there  fer — to  see  'n  be 
seen." 

"  Bless  you — you  dear  old  hunter  !  So  of  course  we 
were  to  love  each  other.  How  would  he  know  I  was  the 
one  ?  " 

"  Enny  man  would  a  trusted  ye  fust  sight." 

"  Oh,  you  dear  old  man  !  You  believe  in  me.  You 
shall  love  me  as  your  child,  be  as  my  father,  or  a  dear 
old  uncle.  You  will  help  me  care  for  Cliffton — our 
Cliffton.  You  can  be  with  him  where  I  cannot  go.  I 
want  to  go  back  to  the  Black  River  days — '  days  of  the 
shining  river '  Anita  called  them.  When  you  got  back 
from  Cleveland,  what  did  you  think  ? " 

"  I  was  glad  on  }t." 

"  Glad  of  what  ? " 

"  Wai,  I  thought  a  good  deal  o'  you  two — you  see." 

"Yes,  well?" 

"  I  thought  'twas  all  right  'tween  you ;  I  sartin  did." 

"  You  thought  we  had  told  each  other — each  knew  the 
other's  thoughts  and  feelings  ?  " 

"  Ye  see  I'd  never  seen  a  rale  young  gentleman  'an 
lady  afore." 


Carter  Talks.  363 

"  Before  they  came  to  be  in  love  with  each  other — is 
that  it  ?  " 

"I  'spose  I  sposed  they'd  kiss  one  anuther — an' — 
an—" 

"  And  that  would  be  the  end  of  it  ?  "  laughing. 

"  Wai,  no — the  beginnin'  on't,  mebbe." 

"  Oh,"  laughing  almost  immoderately. 

"  I  mean  they'd  git  married — that's  w'at  I  meant." 

"  You  dear,  true-hearted  old  man  !  A  young  man  and 
woman  love,  kiss,  and  get  married  ? " 

"Yis,  w'y  not?" 

"And  then  more  kisses?  " 

"  Yis,  I  spect  so,"  grinning  funnily. 

She  now  laughed  with  perfect  abandon,  and  though  he 
fancied  the  lovely  creature  was  laughing  at  him,  he 
rather  liked  to  hear  her,  her  mirth  was  so  musical. 

"  Don't  ye  think  that's  the  true  way  ?  "  he  ventured  to 
ask. 

"  That  is  not  Shakespeare's  idea.  He  says  the  course 
of  true  love  never  does  run  smooth." 

"  Wai,  I  dunno  nulhin'  'bout  Shakespair.  I  guess 
true  love  '1  run  smooth  and  fast  if  you'll  let  it.  'N  if 
you'n  Dudley  'd  staid  there  with  yer  pa  an  that  Ingin 
gal,  in  the  woods,  a  week,  alone — I'd  like  to  know  ? " 
with  considerable  spirit. 

The  young  wife  burst  into  peals  and  shrieks  of  laughter, 
with  a  flash  of  color  suffusing  cheek  and  throat. 

"  O  you  dear,  funny,  direct  old  hunter !  I  must  tell 
Cliff  of  that.  You  would  have  left  us  there  ?  " 

"  I  done  all  I  could.  I  managed  so  't  'e  had  to  go  on 
with  ye." 

"  O — h,  was  that  your  work  ?  Thank  you !  Thank 
you  !  " 


364  The  Torys  Daughter. 

"I  kinder  tho't  ye'd  hate  t'  part,"  looking  her 
honestly  in  the  eyes. 

"  It  was  time  we  parted  according  to  you.  But,  you 
dear  old  man, — thought  of  things  bad  is  as  impossible  to 
you  as  it  was  to  us.  Now,  sometime  I  will  tell  you  of  the 
Huron  and  Fort  Miami,  when  Cliffton  and  I  have  talked 
them  over.  He  has  cause  to  feel  sore  over  some  things 
that  happened  at  each  of  those  places.  I  don't  want 
there  should  be  a  speck  of  misunderstanding  left  in  his 
mind." 

"  Ye  needn't  feel  consarned.  'E  don't  see  enny  specks 
in  ye,"  said  the  moved  old  man. 

"No,  I  know  he  don't  now.  I  don't  want  to  leave  the 
germ  of  one.  I  want  to  ask  one  or  two  things  that  you 
know  of  that  happened  at  your  Camp  Meigs." 

"The  major  had  a  tough  spell  on't  there,"  said 
Carter,  reflectively. 

"  I  am  afraid  he  did.  It  was  an  awfully  '  tough  spelV 
to  me,  but  more  blessed  than  sore,  after  all." 

"  I'm  feared  'twas  all  sore  for  'im.     Wat  kin  I  tell  ye  ? " 

"I  want  to  know  how  he  knew  I  was  at  Fort  Miami?" 

"  Wai,  I  spose  Wasegoboah  must  'a  tole  'im  somethin' 
'bout  'oo  ye  was,  and  mebby  his  seein'  ye  and  Red- 
Wing's  wife  to  Detroit  that  air  time  may  have  gin  'im  a 
notion — ye  must  ask  'im.  Enny  way  he  ast  me  ef  I'd 
know  ye,  er  know  Nita.  He  depended  on  her,  I  suspec'. 
Ye  see  I'd  been  t'  Detroit  'n  had  a  suit  o'  close,  and  I'se 
down  there  the  day  afore  'n  I  seen  the  Ingin  gal ;  wal  I 
seen  ye  both,  an'  tole  'im.  'E  said  'e  meant  ter  try  and 
see  if  he  couldn't  see  ye." 

"Did  he  tell  you  that?"  a  little  eagerly. 

"  'E  said,  sez  'e,  '  I  mus  tell  'er  somethin'.'  I  sed,  sez 
I,  '  'e  might  write  it  in  a  letter  'n  I'd  take  it.'  'E  sed,  sez 


Carter   Talks.  365 

'e,  '  No,  a  man  as  writes  wa't  I  wants  to  tell  'er,  mus'  be  a 
coward  enny  way.'  Them's  'is  words  as  I  say  em,"  em 
phatically. 

"Oh,  Carter,  you  ain't  making  this  up  ?" 

The  old  hunter  looked  surprised  and  hurt.  "  You  kin 
ast  'im,"  looking  at  her  reproachfully. 

"  Oh,  it  seemed  most  too  good.  Go  on,  you  dear  old 
man." 

"  Wai,  I  thought  twas  mose  too  pesky  risky  for  'im  to 
go  there,  but  'e  knowed  bess.  'E  wanted  I  should  see 
Nita  right  off ;  wal,  so  nex  mornin,  'e  set  me  cross  an  'e 
foun'  a  squaw-blow,  bout  the  fust  o'  that  spring,  'an  'e  gin 
it  to  me  to  gin  to  Nila,  'n  I  did,  'n  tole  'er  wa't  'e  wanted, 
'e  'd  be  there  that  same  night.  Wa'l,  she  wus  tickeled 
enymose  to  death.  You  seen  me  there  in  the  little  gully 
there." 

"I  saw  you  and  can  understand  all  about  Anita," 
greatly  interested. 

"  She  sed  you'd  be  drefful  glad  to  see  'im ;  an'  she'd 
meet  us,  jess  up  the  holler,  by  the  spring  run,  an'  take 
'im  in  to  ye,  'n  I  didn't  know,  I  sposed  ye'd  be  glad  t' 
see  'im.  Wal,  we  talked  it  over,  'n  she  gave  me  a  scrap  o' 
paper,  fer  to  han'  to  'im,  and  some  cole  meat  an  biskit 
for  myself,  'n  that  night  we  went." 

Edith  drew  a  long  breath,  as  if  some  dark  matter  was 
finally  made  clear,  and  strangely  enough,  was  profoundly 
interested  in  his  dull  narrative,  in  the  broad  elliptical  ver 
nacular  of  his  native  New  England.  She  now  knew  that 
Cliffton  acted  from  his  own  prompting,  and  not  by  any 
supposed  word  from  her. 

"Mr.  Carter,  I  can't  tell  you  how  much  this  pleases 
me.  So  he  wanted  to  tell  me  something,  very,  very  much  ? 


366  The   Torys  Daughter. 

It  was  too  precious  to  be  written,  and  sent  to  me.  He 
must  tell  it  himself.  What  do  you  suppose  it  was  ?  " 

"  Wai,  I  spect  it  was  suthin  ye's  most  dyin'  to  hear." 

"  Indeed  it  was.  You  brought  him,  and  he  did  tell  it, 
as  a  woman  wants  such  a  precious  thing  told,  and — " 
Her  head  went  down  with  a  little  sob,  as  the  scene  came 
back  to  her.  "  Oh,  it  was  a  thing,  a  scene  from  a  lovely 
romance,  such  as  rarely  happens,"  musingly,  as  to  her 
self. 

"  Ye  see,  Miss  Dudley,  I  reely  thought  ye  wanted  to 
see  'im  enymose  as  much  as  'e  wanted  t'  see  you — I 
sartin  did." 

"  You  had  a  right  to  think  so.  I  did  want  to  see  him, 
Mr.  Carter,  there  was  a  misapprehension.  I  was  to 
blame,  and  I  was  not.  I  fear  I  cannot  make  it  clear  to 
you  ;  perhaps  not  to  him." 

"Wai,  I  won't  bleeve  nuthin'  bad  o'  you  ennyway. 
The  groun'  where  ye  stand  is  richer  fer  ye'r  stanin'  on't, 
an'  I  cant  begin  to  think  so  well  on  ye,  as  'e  does." 

"  Oh,  you  old  flatterer  !  what  a  way  you  have  of  saying 
things  that  a  woman  loves  to  hear." 

"  Wai,  ye  see  I  spose  its  all  in  me  yit — all  that  a  man 
has  to  say  to  wimin." 

"  All  saved  up  for  me  ?  And  it  never  turned  sour?" 
laughing  very  pleasantly. 

"  One  thing  more — when  he  met  you  later — that  night 
— you  went  back  to  Camp  Meigs  together;  tell  me  all 
that  he  said,  how  he  looked,  if  you  could  see  him,  and 
the  tone  of  his  voice,"  settling  herself  to  hear  a  long 
story. 

Carter,  in  his  simple,  direct  way,  told  her  in  ample 
detail,  bringing  out  the  features  of  Dudley's  depression 
in  a  striking  way  :  so  much  so  that  the  young  wife  was 


Carter   Talks.  367 

greatly  moved.  It  had  many  "  Sez  'e  to  me,  sez  'e,"  and 
"  Sez  I  to  'im,  sez  I,"  in  it.  She  laughed  over  the  wagers 
made  and  won.  Declared  that  he  should  demand  pay 
ment. 

"You  had  a  great  deal  more  confidence  in  me  than 
he  did,  Mr.  Carter,"  she  said.  And  later — "  I  want  you 
should  do  something  for  me,  and  for  him  too.  I  want 
you  should  take  a  little  boat  I  will  give  you  and  go  down 
the  river,  to  Frenchtown,  carry  a  letter  from  me  to  some 
good  friends  there,  and  stay  there  till  we  come.  You  can 
take  your  rifle,  and  hunt  if  you  are  lonesome  ;  it  won't  be 
long." 

"Sartin,  sartin.  I'll  be  glad  to.  And  ye  needn't  be 
in  no  hurray.  I  long  to  git  inter  the  woods  agin ;  the 
Ingins  must  a  killed  and  scart  off  purty  much  all  the 
game  roun'  there.  No  matter,  the  woods  is  all  there." 

And  so  that  was  arranged. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

OVER    THE   ROADS   TO   THE   END. 

ON  the  morning  following  this  conversation,  with 
rifle  and  supplies,  Carter  set  out  on  his  voyage 
down  the  Detroit,  leaving  the  wedded  lovers  to  the  culti 
vation  and  revelation  of  their  latent  selves,  each  possibly 
astonished  to  find  that  a  love  seemingly  so  perfect  was 
yet  endowed  with  a  capacity  for  augmentation.  We  know 
the  wise  woman  had  a  purpose  to  explore  the  hidden,  the 
sore  places  in  the  young  husband's  heart  and  memory? 
for  hurts  from  her  own  hand. 

On  the  evening  after  Carter's  departure,  Cliffton,  by  the 
merest  accident  of  course,  discovered  a  certain  ribbon 
before  mentioned,  which,  with  a  shy,  half  help  he  identi 
fied  as  his  own,  attached  to  Queen  Charlotte's  decoration, 
— so  often  shown  the  reader, — when  he  tossed  it  with 
scornful  contempt  to  the  feet  of  the  girl,  in  the  memorable 
tent  scene.  He  regarded  it  with  amazement.  It  will  be 
remembered  that  later  on  that  night,  the  oft  transferred 
gift  was  restored  to  him  by  Tecumseh.  Angry,  and  then 
indifferent  to  it,  on  his  return  to  the  fort,  he  put  it  by, 
without  inspection,  and  never  opened  the  parcel,  until 
hurriedly  on  the  morning  of  the  last  fateful  battle,  and 
when  again  restored  by  Anita,  on  the  morning  of  her 
return  with  her  bridegroom  to  Moravian  town,  his  heart 
and  thought  were  too  full  of  the  engrossing  things  of  that 
day  to  note  the  difference  of  color  and  texture  of  ribbons. 

368 


Over  the  Roads  to  the  End.  369 

This  was  the  hour  of  perfect  fulness,  yet  capable  of 
receiving  more.  He  produced  the  trinket,  and  compared 
the  attachments — the  first  that  Edith  knew  of  his  re-pos 
session  of  the  bauble. 

"Oh,  Edith!"  he  cried,  "you  retained  and  wore  this 
for  my  love,  even  then  ? " 

"  Yes,  Cliffton,"  both  much  moved. 

"  And  this  ? "  holding  up  the  ribbon  still  attached  to 
the  trinket. 

"  I  tied  it  in,  myself,  hoping  it  would  tell  you  of  Edith 
and  her  love.  Had  it  failed  to  reach  you,  that  night, 
Anita  would  have  carried  it  to  you  in  your  walled  camp." 

What  he  did  just  then,  not  having  words,  was  to  kneel 
by  the  low  camp-stool  where  she  sat,  and  place  his  arms 
about  her.  Then  in  due  course  followed  all  of  the  inter 
view  of  the  Maumee,  that  romantic  episode  of  the  war, 
the  sequent  act  of  our  little  drama,  now  recalled,  explained 
and  forever  disposed  of  as  a  possible  source  of  future  dis 
quiet.  Edith  then  told  of  the  rumor  of  his  death,  and 
the  anguish  of  an  hour  which  seemed  an  eternity  of  suf 
fering  to  her. 

Holding  the  recovered  gift  of  the  German  princess,  she 
said  : 

"  I  am  so  glad  Anita  restored  this.  What  curious 
things  it  has  done,  and  misdone  ;  poor,  unconscious  thing. 
I  shall  now  cherish  it  for  Tecumseh's  sake*" 

"  And  I,  mainly  for  its  message  of  love,  now  just 
delivered,"  said  Cliffton.  "  How  stupid  and  blind  a 
man  can  be  !  You  suffered  more  in  an  hour  than  I  in  my 
lifetime,"  he  added. 

They  were,  in  talk,  on  the  backward  journey  over  the 
old  road,  and  soon  reached  the  full  banked  Huron.  What 
a  theme  that  was,  and  so  fully  talked  up !  When  Cliffton 
24 


3/O  The   Tory's  Daughter. 

told  her  that  had  he  met  her  for  leave-taking,  he  should 
have  declared  his  love,  even  in  the  presence  of  her  father, 
she  opened  her  eyes  in  surprise. 

"  What  if  I  had  ? "  he  asked. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know."  Then  she  told  him  of  her  talk 
with  Carter,  some  parts  with  a  little  increase  of  color,  and 
recurring  to  his  question,  repeated  : 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  That  first  flash  of  the  Huron  was 
a  revelation  of  my  heart  to  me.  We  should  part. 
When  I  got  back  the  next  night  and  found  you  had 
gone,  I  was  very  wretched.  Had  you  told  me,  I  think 
my  father  would  then  have  assented  to  an  engagement," 
closing  her  eyes  to  let  all  the  possibilities  present  them 
selves  to  the  inner  vision. 

The  paradise  of  the  Indian  summer  was  in  its  decline 
and  yet  had  gained  in  charmed  and  melancholy  beauty. 
It  would  take  parts  of  two  days  to  reach  river  Raisin. 
They  started  the  next  morning.  The  first  few  miles  were 
in  a  way  abandoned  to  the  emulous  horses — a  little  over- 
spirited  from  the  two  days  idleness.  Edith  was  exhila 
rated.  Her  presence,  the  crisp  air,  sunshine,  the  half- 
wild  leap  of  the  wholly  wild  Indian  trained  horse,  lent 
wings  to  the  spirit  of  Cliffton.  When  the  steeds  subsided 
to  a  more  ordinary  travelling  gait,  he  from  choice 
remained  silent,  giving  himself  to  a  seeming  study  of 
the  flexile  grace  of  Edith's  form,  and  the  ever  varying 
expression  of  her  face,  which  seemed  to  catch  even  added 
light  from  his  eyes. 

"  Why  do  you  look  at  me  so  this  morning,  Cliffton  ?  " 
she  asked. 

"  Look  at  you  so — do  I  not  alway  ?  If  it  pleases  you 
less  to  look  so  at  you,  I  must  look  at  you  some  other 
way." 


Over  the  Roads  to  the  End.  371 

"  No,  no.  I  love  to  have  you.  I  feel  exalted  when 
your  eyes  praise  me.  I  feel — I  feel  beautiful,"  dropping 
her  eyes  in  quickened  sensibility. 

"Then  you  shall  live  ever  with  a  consciousness  of 
beauty,"  said  the  confident  man. 

"  Cliffton,  you  will  spoil  me  with  praise." 

"  My  tongue  seldom,  my  eyes  ever.  You  ask  me 
a  question  and  almost  reprove  my  true  answer,"  he 
said. 

"  Then  I  will  enjoy  your  eyes  in  silence.  Let  me  think 
there  is  some  inner  goodness,  and  fancy  you  see  it  in  my 
face.  That  is  not  a  bit  a  nice  speech,"  after  a  pause, 
laughing  and  coloring. 

"  Truth  must  know  it  is  true,  and  that  truth  is  beauti 
ful.  Oh,  I  think  it  was  a  lovely  speech." 

"  Praise  me  only  with  your  eyes,  Cliffton  ;  your  words 
are  much  like  a  flatterer's." 

"  I  am  more  than  content,  Edith,  I  do  not  want  to  talk. 
I  like  to  hear  your  voice — only  don't  talk  wisely,  as  you 
are  apt  to  do  ;  talk  idly — a  mere  murmur  of  words,  that  I 
may  laugh  with  you  at  them." 

"  You  have  not  answered  my  question,"  looking  from 
the  margins  of  her  wide  eyes.  "  Why  you  looked  so 
at  me  ?  " 

"  Because — because  since  your  words  of  last  night,  I 
see  more  in  your  face  ;  so  I  look  more  so"  And  then  they 
laughed  as  children  at  a  wit  which  none  but  children  see. 
The  wedded  girl  had  still  a  purpose.  She  sobered  down. 
Her  mood  was  his. 

"  I  wish  you  felt  like  talking  some.  There  are  so  many 
things  I  want  to  know,  which  no  one  can  tell  me  but 
you." 


3/2  The   Tory's  Daughter. 

"  As  what — Edith  ?  I'm  sure  you  can  get  anything  I 
know — or  half  know,  by  asking." 

"  Tell  me  of  your  father." 

"  My  father  ? "  The  voice  fell  a  little,  and  some  of  the 
vivacity  went  out  of  his  countenance. 

"  Is  he  a  sad  theme,  Cliff  ton  ? " 

"  No,  not  sad — so  much — I've  learned  so  much  that 
throws  light  on  what  I  never  understood — it  came  so 
late."  What  he  said  fully  confirmed  her  father's  state 
ment.  He  never  made  his  home  in  Boston  after  the  final 
escape  of  Mr.  Grayson.  Cliff's  mother  was  the  youngest 
daughter  of  the  wealthy  Scotch  house  of  Cliffton  of  New 
York.  His  father  was  well  toward  forty  at  marriage. 
Cliff,  the  sole  child,  losing  his  mother  in  infancy  was 
cared  for  by  her  elder  maiden  sister  Lucy.  "  Dear,  dear 
Aunt  Lucy."  Colonel  Dudley  died  when  the  son  was 
ten  years  of  age,  having  lost  his  fortune — supposed  to  be 
considerable.  Cliff  was  by  his  mother's  family  thought 
to  share  the  open  handed  nature  of  his  father,  and  trusted 
with  but  a  narrow  allowance  for  his  mother's  portion,  one- 
third  of  which  he  would  receive  at  twenty  five,  and  the 
residue  five  and  ten  years  later.  Many  questions  were 
asked  and  answered.  Aunt  Lucy  was  brought  out  in 
high  relief,  as  was  Boston. 

Edith  was  thoughtful  and  tender. 

"  Do  you  remember  my  father's  idea,  that  all  the  events 
of  all  these  years,  large  and  small,  were  but  the  shaping 
hands,  conspiring  to  make  or  mar  our  fortunes — to  pro 
duce,  lead,  direct  us  to  each  other  ?  And  so  it  can  be 
easily  made  to  seem.  Oh,  dear  !  All  that  has  happened, 
the  pain,  suffering,  loss — the  long  years  of  war  and  blood 
even,  which  have  so  strangely  wrought  to  this  end — I  am 


Over  the  Roads  to  the  End.  373 

sad  and  humiliated.  Oh,  weak  and  impotent  conclu 
sion  !  " 

"  That  is  too  depressing,"  answered  the  youth,  a  little 
under  the  influence  of  the  sombre  spell  their  talk  had 
worked  up.  "  We,  our  fortunes,  lives,  even,  are  but  the 
most  trifling  incidents  thrown  off  by  the  march  of  great 
events  and  the  forces  impelling  them.  When  you  sink 
their  importance  to  the  mere  causes  of  us  and  ours, 
striking  things  in  a  small  way  are  the  seeming  result. 
It  was  by  noticing  these  seeming  events  and  their  play 
with  men  that  the  old  Greeks  took  and  perfected  the  idea 
of  their  drama.  Always  the  work  of  the  gods,  blind,  re 
lentless  forces — their  drama  and  its  '  unities  '  never  pos 
sible  in  human  life." 

"  My  father  said  his  idea  was  from  the  pagan  in  him — 
you  remember,"  she  added. 

"  It  is  too  depressing,"  he  replied.  "  Let  us  run  away 
from  it."  Laying  a  hand  lightly  on  her  rein,  and  sig 
nalling  the  horses,  away  they  went  at  nearly  full  speed, 
over  the  hard  level  road  through  the  forest,  whose  trees 
seemed  to  whirl  and  fly  the  other  way.  A  third  of  a  mile 
was  thus  passed,  when  the  horses  were  checked,  and  held 
in,  the  Indian  merely  blowing  out  a  long  breath,  while  the 
civilized  horse  was  a  little  longer  in  regaining  his  ordinary 
respiration.  During  the  race  the  eager  boy  and  girl 
looked  into  each  other's  faces  with  laughter-flashing  eyes. 
When  they  drew  rein — 

"  Oh,  that  was  glorious  !  "  exclaimed  she,  when  the 
excited  animal  spirits  burst  forth  in  peals  of  laughter, 
meaningless  save  to  say  they  rejoiced  in  their  escape  from 
depression. 

"  Well,  I  shall  see  Aunt  Lucy  the  first  of  anybody," 
was  Edith's  first  declaration. 


374  The  Torys  Daughter. 

"  She's  more  romantic  than  dear  old  Carter,"  said  the 
still  laughing  man.  "  She'll  spend  more  wonders,  and 
tears,  and  '  did  you  evers,'  over  you  and  our  story,  than 
living  woman  ever  shed  before  !  " 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  second  day  out,  they  drew  near 
the  little  town.  It  had  not  yet  occurred  to  Dudley  to 
ask  the  particular  reason,  if  any,  which  moved  Edith  to 
visit  it.  His  trained  eye  ran  over  the  ground,  stockade, 
and  surroundings,  and  he  made  some  observation  which 
betrayed  a  want  of  information  of  the  battles  of  which 
it  was  the  scene,  and  she  corrected  him  in  a  way  showing 
her  perfect  familiarity  with  details.  To  a  look  of  sur 
prise  she  said, — 

"  I  was  not  at  the  last  battle,  I  was  very  near  here  im 
mediately  after — the  same  day." 

Then  she  told  the  story  of  her  alarm  at  Maiden,  her 
presentiment,  half  vision  of  him  dying  in  the  snow. 
Spite  of  her,  she  was  much  affected  by  the  recital.  He 
heard  her  with  astonishment,  paused,  turned  his  horse, 
and  sat  facing  her,  greatly  moved,  till  her  clear,  rapid  re 
cital  was  ended,  and  then  resumed  the  way,  silent  for  a 
minute. 

"  Oh,  Edith !  and  that  was  away  back,  before  Camp 
Meigs  !  " 

Much  was  said  of  it  by  this  moved  man.  Finally, 
"  What  have  you  brought  me  here  for  ?  Was  it  to  tell  me 
this  precious  thing  of  your  love  and  devotion  ?  What 
else  is  there  ?  I  begin  to  feel  abused,"  laughing  again. 

"  Well,  I  have  some  friends  living  here.  I  wanted  to 
see  them ;  I  wanted  to  draw  you  away ;  I  wanted  to  show 
them  my  husband."  She  was  not  yet  used  to  the  last  two 
words,  and  spoke  them  with  a  sweet  bashfulness,  very 
charming. 


Over  the  Roads  to  the  End.  375 

"  Oh,  you  did  ? "  in  a  small  honeyed  voice. 

"  Of  course ;  any  girl  would.  They've  heard  of  you, 
and  will  be  glad  to  see  you,"  running  her  eye  over  his 
well  worn  undress  uniform. 

"  You  ought  to  be  in  full  epaulets,  and  feathers — per 
haps." 

He  laughed.  "  You  know  except  in  Cass's  staff,  there 
ain't  a  good  coat  in  the  army." 

Light  soon  came  to  him.  Children,  one  or  two  women 
were  abroad,  as  if  on  the  watch.  As  they  passed  the 
first  house,  all  the  inmates  came  out,  and  very  soon 
along  the  one  street,  in  advance  of  them,  until  before 
they  reached  the  bridge,  quite  all  the  population  were  at 
large,  eager,  respectful,  yet  seeing  Edith  only,  saluting 
her,  running  forward  to  salute  her,  touch  her  hand,  her 
habit,  her  horse. 

Dudley  at  the  earliest  manifestation  saw  he  was  on 
the  eve  of  important  discovery. 

"Oh,  Carter  is  here,"  he  said  at  first.  "What  has 
he  been  saying,  I  wonder  ?  "  The  happy  Edith  only 
laughed.  "  Ah,  this  is  none  of  his  work."  And  then  as 
he  saw  she  was  the  one  object  of  interest — "  By  George  ! 
I  believe  Pm  showing  my  wife  !  "  he  said,  "  only  I  have 
nothing  to  do  with  it,"  he  added  later. 

They  reached  the  bridge,  attended  by  all  the  popula 
tion  of  that  side,  and  passed  it  to  find  all  on  the  south 
side  awaiting  them.  They  made  their  way  slowly,  to  the 
late  headquarters  of  the  once  general  of  the  North-west 
ern  Army,  where  they  alit,  surrounded  by  the  pleased  and 
happy  villagers.  On  the  bridge,  Dudley  saw  a  man  he 
knew,  whom  he  beckoned  to  him,  and  from  whom  he 
learned  the  cause  of  this  ovation  to  his  bride.  When  he 
removed  her  from  the  saddle  she  saw  he  knew. 


376  The  Torys  Daughter. 

"  Are  you  glad,  Cliffton  ?  "  in  a  low  voice. 

His  answer  was  to  raise  and  press  with  his  lips  the 
hand  he  held,  in  silence.  All  saw  the  a*t,  its  grace, 
many  then  knew  the  cause  of  this  homage.  Many 
glances  of  but  half  approval  had  been  cast  at  him. 
What  man  could  be  fit  mate  for  the  peerless  Edith  ?  As 
he  now  arose  from  this  tribute,  so  tall,  gallant  and 
manly,  they  were  content  with  him. 

As  the  lovely,  tearful,  blushing,  smiling  girl,  now  by 
his  side,  turned  to  them  and  said  "  My  husband,"  ex 
clamations  of  approval,  admiration —  "What  a  lovely 
pair ! "  came  to  them  from  all  parts  of  the  two  or  three 
hundreds  of  gratified  people.  Then  they  were  con 
ducted  to  their  quarters,  the  best  the  little  town  could 
furnish. 

Carter  returned  from  his  hunt  at  sundown,  bringing 
the  venison  of  a  fine  "  spike  horned  buck."  He  reported 
large  game  scarce,  but  the  woods  were  there,  and  Edith 
announced  her  intention  for  a  ramble  in  them  the  next 
day.  Cliff  expressed  a  wish  to  make  an  excursion  down 
the  river  the  next  morning,  to  which  Edith  assented. 
She  divined  his  purpose — to  find  Wasegoboah's  boat. 
Poor  Cliff! 

"  Mr.  Carter  will  row,"  she  said,  and  then  noting 
a  flitting  shadow  pass  over  Dudley's  face —  "  He  will  be 
as  glad  and  proud  to  go  as  a  boy  of  ten.  Not  the  least 
restraint  upon  us,  and  as  silent  as  a  child,  to  whom 
speech  has  not  yet  been  sent."  That  settled  it. 

The  next  was  one  of  the  last  serene  mornings  of  the 
waning  season.  The  sun  lost  his  rays  in  the  lower 
atmosphere,  through  which  he  showed  but  a  dim  disk. 
Carter,  with  the  boat  ready  for  its  burden,  by  the  little 
quay,  awaited  the  approach  of  the  favored  ones.  As 


Over  the  Roads  to  tJie  End.  377 

might  be  expected,  the  man  was  too  absorbed  by  his  com 
panion  to  more  than  note  that  the  little  birch  was  one  of 
the  smaller  and  most  exquisite  in  model  and  finish,  which 
would  once  have  challenged  his  wonder  and  admiration. 
He  placed  Edith  in  the  bow,  and  when  Carter  had  taken 
his  place  as  boatman,  carefully  disposed  of  himself  mid 
ships — quite  filling  the  dainty,  yet  in  Carter's  hands,  per 
fectly  safe  little  shallop.  The  prow  is  turned  down 
stream.  We  have  misgiving.  Will  it  ever  turn  back  ? 
In  fancy  we  follow  along  the  sandy  shore.  A  little  burst 
of  exclamation  from  Cliff,  and  laughter  on  Edith's  part, 
and  we  know  he  has  discovered  the  secret  and  identity 
of  the  boat.  We  know  he  will  hear  the  glad,  happy  girl's 
story  of  it,  and  tell  her  his  own.  As  we  move  along* 
catching  their  glad  voices  and  mirthful  notes,  anticipating 
their  future,  the  boat  approaches  a  wooded  bend  of  the 
river.  We  may  go  no  further.  Its  gayly  decorated  prow, 
Edith  Cliffton,  Carter,  pass  it,  and  are  forever  lost  to  our 
eyes.  Eagerly  we  bend  forward.  A  faint  echo  of 
laughter  ending  in  a  sigh,  as  do  all  echoes  of  things  past, 
and  silence  and  solitude,  never  again  to  be  broken,  are 
upon  us. 

Have  I  a  reader  who  stands  with  me,  gazing  down  the 
vanishing  stream  with  regret  for  our  loss,  we  may  turn 
again  to  the  idyl  of  the  autumn  woods  on  the  banks  of 
that  stream,  called  in  the  soft  tongue  of  Anita,  "  River 
of  the  Shining  Water." 

FINIS. 


SUPPLEMENTAL. 


TECUMSEH. 

PUCKISHINWAY,  Tecumseh's  father,  was  a  chief  of  re 
nown,  and  his  mother,  Methoataskee,  was  an  extraordi 
nary  woman,  of  the  Shawanoe  Turtle  Tribe.  The  family 
all  had  fine  persons,  and  unusual  mental  endowments. 
Losing  his  father,  Tecumseh  was  reared  by  his  eldest 
brother,  Cheeseekau,  who  spared  no  pains  to  form  an 
exceptional  and  extraordinary  character.  The  statement 
of  Grayson  to  General  Brock,  as  in  my  text,  of  his  teach 
ing,  is  strictly  true  in  fact,  as  are  most  of  the  remarkable 
things  there  set  forth.  The  brothers  were  both  slain  in 
battle ;  both  had  presentiments  of  their  fate.  The  speech 
given  as  that  of  the  younger  on  the  eve  of  battle,  is 
authentic,  as  is  his  more  famous  speech  to  Proctor. 

Various  translations  have  been  made  of  the  name 
Tecumseh,  or  more  properly  Tecumtha.  Drake  renders 
it  the  Shooting  Star.  Another  the  Flying  Tiger,  and  still 
another,  Wild  Cat  that  leaps.  It  marks  the  eminence  of 
Tecumseh,  that  an  otherwise  not  remarkable  man  was 
elected  to  the  Vice-Presidency  of  the  United  States  on 
the  popular  delusion  that  he  slew  the  chief  at  the  battle 
of  the  Thames.  Colonel  Johnson  never  claimed  this  for 
himself.  It  is  incontestable  that  he  fell,  and  was  helped 
away  at  the  commencement  of  the  battle,  which  continued 
with  great  fury  till  Tecumseh  was  slain  fifteen  or  twenty 
minutes  later.  His  fall  caused  a  panic. 

378 


Supplemental.  379 

The  disposition  of  his  remains  was,  and  may  still  be  a 
matter  of  dispute.  Upon  that  mainly  turned  the  fortune 
of  his  supposed  slayer,  an  important  factor  in  the  politica 
fates  of  men,  later.  The  Indian  supposed  to  be  slain  by 
Colonel  Johnson  was  found  on  the  field  next  morning. 
There  were  but  two  men  in  the  American  army  who  knew 
Tecumseh ;  General  Harrison,  and  Anthony  Shane,  an 
adopted  Shawanoe,  a  life-long  friend  of  Tecumseh  (whose 
statements  are  accepted  as  to  much  of  his  life).  Both  saw 
this  dead  Indian  and  failed  to  identify  him.  He  is  shown 
by  Drake,  Tecumseh's  biographer,  to  have  been  slain  by 
a  private,  who  removed  much  of  his  gorgeous  finery. 
Harrison  did  not  mention  the  fall  of  Tecumseh,  in  his 
dispatch  of  the  battle,  which  was  made  a  point  against 
him  later.  Black  Hawk,  who  served  under  Tecumseh,  and 
fought  near  him,  gave  an  account  of  his  burial  in  1832, 
which  took  place  in  the  rear  of  the  swamp  some  five  miles 
from  where  he  fell,  the  night  following. 

As  known,  the  Indians  always  carry  off  their  dead. 
They  were  engaged  in  this,  passing  the  swamp  the  night 
after  the  battle ;  and  none  but  the  most  fatuous  will  doubt 
that  the  body  of  their  greatest  chief,  was  the  first  to  be 
secured  by  them.  Wasegoboah  fell  by  his  side,  and  was 
also  cared  for.  His  wife  was  the  great  chief's  sister,  Te- 
cumapease,  in  her  way  as  remarkable  as  her  brother. 
The  spring  of  1814,  she  with  Tecumseh's  widow  and  son, 
visited  Quebec  ;  and  were  treated  with  much  distinction 
by  the  English.  The  Prince  Regent  sent  the  young  Te 
cumseh  a  sword.  He  and  his  mother  were  commonplace 
Indians,  and  I  discover  no  trace  of  them,  nor  of  the 
Prophet,  after  he  left  Detroit  in  the  Autumn  of  1813. 

Tecumapease  also  disappeared  at  the  same  time.  A 
commanding  woman,  she  doubtless  after  the  way  of  her 


380  Supplemental. 

sex,  under  the  hardships  of  savage  life,  finished  her  career 
in  the  shadow  of  the  diminishing  forest,  deepened  by 
the  misfortunes  of  her  family. 

THE  FALL  OF  DETROIT. 

Dr.  WILLIAM  EUSTIS  of  Massachusetts,  who  had  served 
as  a  surgeon  of  the  army  through  the  Revolution,  was 
secretary  of  war,  when  war  was  declared.  He  yielded 
to  Major  Armstrong,  author  of  the  famous  Newberg 
letters,  in  January,  1813.  One  of  the  acts  of  the  new 
secretary  was  to  bring  General  Hull  to  trial  for  the  result 
of  his  campaign. 

Among  the  consequences  of  the  fifteen  months  war  of 
the  North-west,  were  three  military  trials  of  three  com 
manders. 

General  Hull  was  charged  with  treason,  cowardice, 
and  gross  neglect  of  duty,  with  several  specifications 
under  each ;  they  were  signed  by  A.  J.  Dallas,  Judge 
Advocate.  The  court  was  made  up  of  officers  in  the 
regular  service,  of  which  Major-General  Henry  Dearborn 
was  president.  It  consisted  in  addition,  of  Brigadier- 
General  Bloomfield,  Colonels  Little,  Irvin,  Fenwick,  and 
Bogardus,  Lieutenant-Colonels  House,  William  Scott, 
Stewart,  Conner,  Davis,  and  Livingston. 

The  Army  Judge  Advocate  was  Philip  S.  Parker.  He 
was  assisted  by  Martin  Van-Buren,  who  was  the  first  of 
the  three  Presidents  who  had  to  do  with  the  war  of  the 
North-west. 

The  court  convened  at  Albany,  January  3,  1814,  and 
set  almost  continuously  till  March  28,  following. 

General  Hull  was  aided  by  Robert  Tillotson,  and  C.  D. 
Golden,  Esquires,  and  later  by  the  famous  Harrison  Gray 


Supplemental.  381 

Otis.  I  have  always  understood  that  the  remarkable 
summing  up,  read  by  General  Hull,  his  final  defence, 
was  Mr.  Otis'  work.  He  was  a  pronounced  Federalist,  a 
member  of  the  Hartford  Convention,  a  man  of  great  power, 
witty,  sarcastic,  eloquent,  pathetic.  His  defence  would 
make  a  book  of  three  hundred  pages.  He  hated  Madison, 
the  war,  and  all  on  that  side,  and  he  spared  nobody. 
McArthur  and  Cass  appeared  in  their  new  uniforms  of 
Brigadier-Generals  of  regulars.  Many  of  the  militia 
officers  had  been  so  transformed,  and  used  as  witnesses 
by  the  government.  They  were  handled  in  a  vein  of 
mingled  irony,  sarcasm  and  ridicule.  Never  was  there  a 
successful  campaign  so  fruitful  of  promotions  as  this  of 
disaster  and  disgrace. 

Mr.  Van  Buren  was  permitted  an  oral  reply.  A  report 
of  it  was  promised  for  publication  of  the  trial.  Mr. 
Van  Buren  may  not  have  cared  to  be  bound  up  with 
Mr.  Otis,  able  as  it  undoubtedly  was. 

In  its  conclusions,  the  court  found  the  hapless  general 
guilty  of  the  second,  and  third  charges,  and  sentenced 
him  to  be  shot  to  death.  It  refused  to  take  jurisdiction  of 
the  first — the  charge  of  treason.  On  the  record  is  this 
indorsement, — 

"  April  25,  1814. 

"The  sentence  of  the  Court  is  approved,  and  the  exe 
cution  of  it  remitted. 

(Signed)     "  JAMES  MADISON.  " 

No  trial  before  that  time,  not  even  that  of  Burr  for  trea 
son  before  Chief  Justice  Marshall,  at  Richmond,  nor  per 
haps  has  any  since,  so  moved  the  people  of  the  entire 
republic  as  did  this  trial  of  Hull. 

Many  years  later  the  unfortunate  general  published  an 


382  Supplemental. 

elaborate  vindication  of  himself,  which  in  the  minds  of  the 
few  thoughtful  readers,  removed  the  stains  from  his  char 
acter.  Perhaps  nothing  could  redeem  his  'conduct.  At 
a  still  later  day,  General  Cass  said,  that  "  the  errors  and 
misfortunes  of  the  general  were  wholly  due  to  imbecility." 
His  unhappy  son,  who  served  as  his  aid  at  Detroit,  was 
killed,  while  gallantly  fighting,  in  one  of  the  later  battles 
of  the  Niagara  frontier. 

COMMODORE    BARCLAY. 

THE  loss  of  a  British  fleet  in  what  had  been  in  fact 
until  it  occurred  British  water,  no  matter  what  were  the 
odds,  called  for  a  rigid  investigation,  and  the  old  man 
was  put  on  trial  before  a  naval  court. 

I  quote  two  paragraphs  from  Coffin's  Chronicle  of  the 
War  in  Canada  — his  reference  to  it,  written  by  the  son 
of  a  refugee. 

''"  Barclay  was  the  type  of  a  British  sailor.  He  had 
served  under  Nelson.  He  was  noted  for  personal  courage, 
and  for  that  moral  courage  which  at  the  call  of  duty  defies 
despair.  He  was  one  of  those  old  sea-dogs  who  lose 
their  hold  only  in  death.  He  expected  more  from  human 
nature  than  could  be  found  in  any  other  nature  than  his 
own.  Defeat  disturbed  a  nature  which  death  could  not 
daunt.  His  dispatch  on  this  occasion  (his  account  of  the 
battle)  did  not  do  justice  by  the  brave  men  who  stood  by 
him  so  truly.  (The  men  recruited  from  the  Canadian 
Lake  Marine  are  here  meant.) 

"  Some  months  afterward  (after  the  battle)  he  tottered 
before  a  court-martial  like  a  Roman  trophy,  nothing  but 
helmet  and  hauberk.  He  had  lost  an  arm  at  Trafalgar, 
the  other  was  rendered  useless  by  a  grape-shot  through 


Supplemental.  383 

the  shoulder.  He  was  further  weakened  by  several  severe 
flesh  wounds.  Little  wonder  that  men  not  given  to  such 
weakness  shed  tears  at  the  spectacle.  Little  wonder 
that  the  president  of  the  court,  in  returning  his  sword, 
told  him  in  a  voice  tremulous  with  emotion,  that  the  con 
duct  of  himself  and  his  men  had  been  most  honorable  to 
themselves  and  to  their  country." 

Cooper,  certainly  a  high  authority,  in  commenting 
upon  the  battle,  says  this  of  the  seamen  reflected  upon  by 
the  grim  old  commodore —  "  The  history  of  this  continent 
is  filled  with  the  instances  in  which  men  of  that  charac 
ter  have  gained  battles  which  went  to  increase  the  re 
nown  of  the  mother  country,  without  obtaining  credit  for 
it.  The  hardy  frontier  men  of  the  American  lakes  are  as 
able  to  endure  fatigue,  as  ready  to  engage,  and  as  con 
stant  in  battle  a's  the  seamen  of  any  marine  in  the  world. 
They  merely  require  good  leaders,  and  these  the  English 
appear  to  have  possessed  in  Captain  Barclay  and  his 
associates." 

GENERAL  PROCTOR. 

THE  moment  General  Proctor  saw  the  wild  Kentuck- 
ians  dash  through  his  red  lines,  he  seems  to  have 
lost  his  head  and  heart  both.  He  was  quite  the  first  to 
escape.  So  quick  was  the  pursuit  he  was  obliged  to 
abandon  his  carriage,  which  contained  his  papers,  among 
which  was  found  the  famous  speech  of  Tecumseh.  It  is 
supposed  he  saved  this  criminating,  contemptuous  philip 
pic,  to  show  his  officers  what  he  had  to  endure  from  the 
Shawanoe. 

Some  250  of  all  arms  got  away  from  the  field.  The 
pursuit  of  Major  Payne  of  Johnson's  regiment,  and 


384  Supplemental. 

Colonel  Todd  of  Harrison's  staff,  cut  off  and  captured 
some  sixty  of  them.  The  rest,  after  great  suffering, 
reached  Burlington  Heights,  at  the  head  of  Ontario. 

Proctor,  true  to  the  mendacity  of  his  nature,  in  his  re 
port  of  the  loss  of  his  army,  accused  his  soldiers,  the  men 
of  the  4ist,  with  want  of  good  conduct  in  the  presence 
of  the  enemy,  in  consequence  of  which  General  Prevost 
censured  them  in  a  general  order. 

Proctor  returned  to  England,  where  something  of  the 
real  facts  from  Warburton  and  others  came  to  be  known, 
and  he  was  tried  on  charges  of  cowardice  and  negli 
gence  in  conducting  his  retreat. 

To  the  disgust  of  the  British  army,  he  was  acquitted  of 
the  first  charge,  convicted  of  the  second,  and  suspended, 
with  loss  of  pay,  and  was  reprimanded. 

The  Prince  Regent  censured  him  severely  in  a  gen 
eral  order,  and  the  court  also  for  acquitting  him,  and 
directed  that  the  order  be  read  at  the  head  of  every  regi 
ment  of  the  British  army,  the  world  over,  and  it  was. 

GENERAL  HARRISON. 

IT  should  perhaps  be  remembered  that  General  Harri 
son,  immediately  after  adjusting  matters  on  his  western 
border,  hurried  with  his  available  force  to  the  Niagara 
frontier. 

For  some  reason  never  made  public,  Armstrong  was 
his  enemy,  and  purposely  treated  him  with  so  many 
slights  and  indignities  that  he  offered  his  resignation  in 
the  May  following,  which  the  secretary,  in  the  absence  of 
the  President,  at  once  accepted,  against  the  protest  of 
those  who  knew  of  the  offer,  and  in  disregard  of  the  usage 
of  the  department. 


Supplemental.  385 

Whoever  makes  himself  familiar  with  the  history  of 
Harrison,  and  the  personnel  of  his  army,  citizens  of 
Ohio,  Kentucky,  and  Indiana,  including  one  or  two  of 
the  regular  army,  will  be  surprised  to  learn  the  number 
of  great  and  conspicuous  men  found  in  its  ranks.  Two 
of  the  future  presidents*  of  the  republic,  while  a  third 
became  the  public  prosecutor  of  the  unhappy  general,  the 
surrenderer  of  Detroit;  one  vice-president,  many  senators, 
a  great  many  representatives  in  Congress  ;  several  foreign 
ministers;  governors  of  states  and  territories;  judges, 
national  and  state,  with  quite  innumerable  members  of 
state  legislatures.  In  the  later  years,  to  have  served  with 
Harrison  against  Tecumseh  and  Proctor,  was  in  Ken 
tucky,  Ohio,  Indiana,  Michigan  and  Illinois,  an  honor 
only  second  to  service  in  the  war  of  the  Revolution. 

*Capt.  Zachary  Taylor  defended  Ft.  Harrison. 
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